


I've Looked For You

by patrickp



Category: Bandom, Fall Out Boy
Genre: Blowjobs, I have no idea where this is going, M/M, Pete makes bad decisions, Soulmate AU, mention of drug and alcohol use, there's very little sex stuff tho I promise, this has a happy ending i swear
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-24
Updated: 2016-06-27
Packaged: 2018-05-08 20:29:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 30,897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5512106
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/patrickp/pseuds/patrickp
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When you're born, your soulmate's initials are tattooed on your wrist and the voice speaking all your thoughts is that of your soulmate.<br/>So when Patrick meets Pete, he knows that Pete's his soulmate. The only problem?<br/>Pete doesn't seem to know Patrick even exists.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Patrick's Got A Rock In His Shoe

**Author's Note:**

> so wow this is a shitty first chapter but i have many many ideas for the chapters to come so please stay tuned

From the day he had been born, Patrick had a tattoo on his wrist. They were, following the rules of the universe, apparently, the initials of his soulmate. The voice inside his head speaking his thoughts were his soulmate’s, too. 

Normally, you’d think it’s cool as hell—you get information about your soulmate like that? Easy peasy to find them, right? WRONG.

It was annoying. Everyone always wanted to see your initials, see if you matched. They wanted to know what the voice sounded like. And that was alright, for most kids-

Except for Patrick.

Not only did he have ridiculous initials—PLKW III—the voice in his head… was a guy.

When Patrick was a teenager, he swore up and down that he wasn’t gay- no way, no how. It was just… a girl with a really deep voice.

But now that Patrick was twenty-three, he had fully come to terms with the fact that he was gay: he’d found way too many guys hot to not be gay. But despite the fact that Patrick had come to terms with it, he still kept it quiet. Kept it under wraps, so to speak.

Now, over the years, Patrick had looked at other guys, tried to listen closely to their voice to see if it was his soulmate, but he shouldn’t have kidded himself: when you get nearer to meeting your soulmate, the tattoo burned. His tattoo had been ice cold from the day he was born.

\----------

“Jesus fuck, this thing has been burning. It feels like it’s a million degrees. Check it out, man.” Joe, Patrick’s roommate, offered his wrist to the shorter man, frowning.

Patrick gently laid a hand on Joe’s wrist, finding the skin to be a little warm, but spectacularly so. “Nah, man, it feels normal to me.”

“Fuck, that’s weird.” Joe brought his wrist back, examining the letters closely. “But I think I know who it is. I saw this girl the other day at the music store, and she was fuckin’ _gorgeous,_ man. When I saw her, it started fucking burning like the asscrack of Satan.” Joe shook his head, laughing.

“Well, that’s always good.” Patrick gave a halfhearted smile. He was twenty three, and his tattoo had never even tingled- if anything, it was almost extra cold. He had given up hope, at that point, that he’d ever find his soulmate.

“Yeah. I just hope I see her again. I’m almost sure I heard her talking and it was the voice,” Joe said, tapping his head to indicate what he meant. “You know, the thoughts voice?”

“I know what you meant, Joe.” Patrick gave a little laugh, rounding the corner towards their apartment building.

And that’s when he saw him.

Patrick stopped as his wrist lit on fire, eyes locked on the boy standing by the steps of their apartment building.

He was short, tan as hell, and had long shaggy black hair. He wore tight jeans and an Iron Maiden t-shirt. And he was beautiful.

“Yo, Patrick, what’s up?” Joe was a few feet in front of Patrick, looking over his shoulder with confusion.

“Hm? Oh, nothing. Just… a rock in my shoe.” Patrick shook his foot for a second, pretending to try to get the rock out. “Got it! Let’s go.”

Left hand wrapped tightly around his wrist, Patrick walked right past the boy. His soulmate.

Man, was he in trouble.


	2. Pete's Fucked (In A Good Way)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hot damn!!! thank you to everyone for such AMAZING feedback and support, I really never thought I'd get this much of a reaction! so thank you! I'm super excited for the next chapter and your reactions to this and the rest of the story.

Pete was kind of embarrassed by his tattoo. PMS. Really? Out of all the billion people on earth, he had to get the person with the initials PMS? Fucking amazing. He did the best he could to hide it, because with that and the voice in his head, he’d surely get made fun of.

Pete had always thought he was straight. That the voice was a mishap—that it was wrong. Because Pete Wentz was not gay. No way, shape or form.

Until he had a song stuck in his head and, of course, that fucking voice was singing it, and it was beautiful, so beautiful—Pete got a hard on. Most embarrassing moment of his life. Of course, no one knew, but he knew, when he was jerking off in the shower and all he could think about was that voice, that gorgeous fucking voice, and finding the person it belonged to.

But until he could, he figured, why bother ignoring other hot guys he saw? So Pete had boyfriends. And girlfriends. Some were singers, some weren’t. But he pretended that their voice gave him a hard on when he was really just thinking of his soulmate—of his PMS. That’s how he thought of them.  
  
Pete’s newest boyfriend was Mikey- he was tall, skinny, and cute as fuck. Pete knew he wasn’t his soulmate, but he still held the same policy as before, even as he approached twenty-eight.

But in all honesty, Pete was getting worried. He was almost twenty eight, and he didn’t have much time to waste fooling around with these guys. Yet, of course, he didn’t tell Mikey that. They just kept on dating and pretending everything was fine, that they didn’t both have their respective soulmates, whatever.

They pretended.

\---------

It was when Mikey wanted to move in with him that Pete decided it was time for a change in scenery. He was sick of the same streets, buildings, plants. So they moved.

Pete figured they’d end up spending their lives together, anyways- he was twenty-eight and still hadn’t met his soulmate. It was unheard of not to have met your soulmate by twenty-three, so at twenty-eight, Pete was considered a freak.

That was okay to him. He didn’t mind being a freak- he had Mikey, and Mikey had him, and they were both perfectly content with it, even though Pete secretly wished he could find PMS, and he assumed Mikey wanted to find his respective soulmate—Pete couldn’t remember the initials. Why bother memorizing the initials of the person Mikey was gonna leave him for?

So Pete stood outside, directing the traffic of the movers, enjoying the slight breeze and cool temperature. Mikey had just stepped inside to make sure the movers were getting to the right apartment when Pete felt it.

The fire on his wrist.

He blinked rapidly and looked at his wrist, shaking his hand a moment before really realizing what was happening. His soulmate was close.

Pete looked around in a panic, trying to find them—then realized he didn’t know what they looked like and his shoulders fell.

_Well, fuck, what do I do now?_ He thought. He THOUGHT. The voice!

Maintaining his calm as to not alert anyone around him, he heard the fucking voice—ringing out above everyone else’s on the street, it seemed.

“Just… a rock in my shoe.”

Pete was overjoyed, and for a moment, almost started literally jumping up and down in glee, but realized that might alert Mikey. He didn’t…. He didn’t want to break Mikey’s heart. But how could he not? He knew his soulmate was on this very street, just… unsure where. He couldn’t give up his soulmate!

“Something wrong?” Mikey’s voice. Shit.

“No, no. Just… lost in thought.” Pete scrambled to find a lie, not wanting to alarm Mikey—he didn’t even know who his soulmate was yet.

“Oh. Okay. Just making sure.”

With a kiss on his cheek, Mikey was gone again.

And Pete was kind of fucked.


	3. Patrick Is Obsessed With PLKW III

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> have another chapter for today because i'm addicted to writing this

Patrick couldn’t stop thinking about him. At work, while he was watching TV, washing the dishes, literally _everywhere._ But he kept it in his head. Patrick didn’t moon about—not that kinda guy.

Patrick fantasized about them meeting. What his name was. What it would be like kissing him. And it baffled Patrick, because normally he was not that kind of guy, but he definitely knew that PLKW III was his soulmate because he couldn’t get him off his mind.

His favorite fantasy was one he often visited in his free time. It went like this:

_Patrick was waiting in the elevator on his floor, doors just starting to close, when he saw PLKW jog out into the hallway, eyes closing in on the closing elevator. With a panicked look, he started running towards it. Patrick leaned out and grabbed the closing doors, holding them open to the man entering the elevator._

_“Thank you,” he said quietly, breath a little shallow from running._

_“Uh- you—you’re welcome.” Patrick had retreated back into the corner, blinking with disbelief._

_PLKW looked up with alarm. “You—you’re—um.” He blinked rapidly and shook his head. “What’s your name?”_

_“Patrick.” He was quiet for a moment, still dazed, until he remembered the custom of telling your entire name when someone asked. “Um, Patrick Martin Stump.”_

_PLKW let out a sigh of relief. “PMS. You’re—you’re it. You’re the one.”_

_Before Patrick could think, PLKW was kissing him. He was shocked for a moment, frozen, but kissed back, one hand resting on PLKW’s waist while the other ran through his hair, raking the black locks through his fingers. PLKW, obviously glad to have found Patrick, pressed him against the wall and one hand grabbed Patrick’s thigh and brought it up, hooking Patrick’s leg around PLKW’s waist, rolling his hips forward into Patrick’s, earning a small moan._

Of course, the little fantasy never went more than that unless Patrick was in the shower or the privacy of his room.

But Patrick very often dreamed about PLKW’s name. Phil? Paul? He didn’t look like a Phil or a Paul, or even a Patrick. (That would be weird, to date someone named Patrick.)

Patrick would occasionally see him, a flash of tan skin here, a blur of black hair there, and every time his wrist would set alight, but Patrick never really got to meet him.

Patrick ended up being on the lookout for PLKW—always looking, watching, waiting to see him somewhere, anywhere. Except he wasn’t too smooth about it.

“Patrick? What are you looking for?” Joe laughed, smiling broadly.

“Nothing.” Patrick looked back at the table where they were having lunch, shrugging nonchalantly.

“Dude. I know when you’re lying to me. What was it?”

Patrick frowned, considering for a moment. “Issmysoumae.” He muttered the words, all of them blending together into a mush of unintelligible syllables.

“What was that?” Joe frowned, giving Patrick an ‘I’m done with your crap honey’ look.

“… It’smysoulmate.”

“Patrick, for the love of god, slow down! I can’t understand what you’re saying.

“It’s. My freaking. Soulmate.”

“Wait, who is?”

“I’m—I’m not sure. I saw him outside and I—I knew it was him, but I… I haven’t seen him since and I—I want to find him but he’s… it’s like he’s fucking disappeared—“

Joe laughed. “Slow down, slow down. First, him? I didn’t know you were gay. Cool. Second—“

Patrick’s eyes went wide. “Wait, you’re—you’re okay with the fact I’m gay?”

“Yes, dude, that’s why I said ‘cool’.” Joe widened his eyes like ‘wow he’s special’ but continued. “Second, when was it?”

“Remember the other day, we were walking home, and I just stopped, then said I had a rock in my shoe?” Patrick leaned his chin against the palm of his hand, elbow against the table.

Joe thought a moment, eyes narrowing in on Patrick’s face. “Oh, yeah!”

“That’s cause my wrist started burning. Like you said, like the asscrack of Satan.”

Both men laughed loudly, but upon earning glares from the tables around them, quieted down but laughed all the same.

“Yeah, it sucks, doesn’t it?” Joe brushed his hair out of his face with a grin, obviously glad Patrick had found his soulmate.

“Yeah. The thing is, I saw him and I knew it was him—the tattoo felt like a damn magnet, drawing me towards him, but… he… he didn’t even look up. If mine was burning, his must have been too. Does he not want a soulmate? Does—does he already have a girlfriend or something? Or did the universe just really fuck me up?”

“I dunno man, but… was he standing out by a moving truck? Tall, skinny, glasses?” Joe took a long sip of his coffee, leaning back in his chair as if evaluating Patrick.

“No, no, he was… he was short, tan as hell, tattoos, black hair. But yeah, by a moving truck.”

Joe’s eyes widened first, then softened with sympathy. “I’m sorry, Patrick, he—“

“What? What is it?” Patrick jumped forward, stomach dropping. He… he couldn’t imagine if PLKW had a girlfriend or a boyfriend already. How could you date someone you knew wasn’t your soulmate? What if… what if Patrick’s soulmate had no interest in finding Patrick?

“I’m really sorry, but… He’s got a boyfriend, it looks like. The—the other guy, he was kissing the little dude’s cheek, and they seemed all lovey-dovey.”

Patrick tuned out after the word “boyfriend.”

His entire world felt like it was over.


	4. Don't Give Him That Look, Pete

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow this chapter was really hard to write because i had literally no idea what to write but I finally got it figured out, so yay

Pete woke up early that morning to the smell of eggs and bacon. Of course, ‘early’ for Pete Wentz was no earlier than nine, unless he had something really important. Or work. But weekend early was usually ten am.

Pete slowly rolled out of bed and shuffled his way into the kitchen to see Mikey in the kitchen, quietly making breakfast for the two of them. Pete kept shuffling in and his feet on the floor must have been loud, cause it grabbed Mikey’s attention and he turned to look at Pete, smiling.

“Morning. I’m surprised to see you, it’s only…” Mikey looked at the clock on the stove. “It’s only ten! Damn.” He laughed brightly and turned back to cooking the food. “What woke you?”

“Not sure.” Pete sat down at the kitchen table, shivering a little from being so used to the warm cocoon of his bed. “Probably the smell of bacon.” Pete grinned and stood, crossing the small kitchen in a few steps to stand behind Mikey, wrapping his arms around Mikey’s stomach.

“When will the food be done?” Pete’s voice was muffled by Mikey’s shirt, his face buried into his back.

“Soon.” Mikey’s back shook a little from his laugh.

“Don’t laugh, I’m hungry.”

\----------

Pete sighed. He was like, a thousand percent conflicted. He wanted to meet PMS but… he didn’t want to break up with Mikey. Pete didn’t think he could handle breaking Mikey’s heart like that. Then an idea dawned on him.

Pete stood and grabbed his phone, stuffing it into his back pocket before walking out to the living room. Mikey sat on the couch, laptop in tow, looking rather concentrated on whatever was on the screen. Pete grabbed his shoes and sat down on the chair adjacent the couch, slipping his feet inside and tying them as he spoke.

“Mikey, I’m going out. My boss asked me to do something and I’m not real sure how to go about it. I’m gonna get some air and just… walk around and try to figure out how to do it.” Pete took a deep breath after his spew of words, slipping on the nearest hoodie.

“Alright.” Mikey didn’t even look up from his computer screen.

Pete hesitantly kissed Mikey’s cheek, feeling stubble under his lips, then left before his mind could explode any more.

After a brisk walk, he was knocking on a door. His knuckles trailed on the wood for a second before he dropped his hand, shoving it back into his pocket.

The door swung open to reveal a sleepy, disheveled looking Gerard Way. He blinked at the sunlight for a moment before his eyes focused in on Pete.

“Pete? What are you doing here?”

“I need to talk to you.” Pete took a shaky breath, afraid of everything. He didn’t want to upset Mikey, but… his soulmate. But what if his soulmate didn’t like that Pete had dated other people?

Frank appeared in the doorway behind Gerard. “What’s up?”

“Can—can I come in? This might take a while.” 

Gerard and Frank both moved back, letting Pete in. They made their way over to the living room, both sitting down on the couch close to each other.

Pete took a seat on the chair, leaning forward, his elbows braced against his thighs. “So, um, obviously you guys know about soulmates—“

“Fuck yeah, I do.”

Pete looked up to see Frank giving Gerard a brief kiss. “Shut up and listen.”

Gerard blushed a little and whapped Frank with the back of his hand, but motioned for Pete to continue. “Sorry. Go on.”

“Um… the other day, a-as Mikey and I were moving in… I felt it.” Pete held up his wrist, pointing at the tattoo. “It, you know?” He sighed and dropped his hand into his lap, thumb brushing over the block letters. “I didn’t see him, I just—I heard him, on the street, and I knew he was there, and…” Pete blinked back tears, sighing shakily. “And I wanna meet him, so bad, he’s my soulmate, but I don’t wanna break up with Mikey. I love him a lot, but… I—“

Pete was interrupted by a pillow hitting his face.

“Are you shitting me?”

Pete looked up to see that Gerard had mimicked his posture.

“Don’t fuckin’ give me that look. Break up with my brother. Don’t lead him on when you know your soulmate is near. It’s better to make him upset now so he can get over you and then be okay when he meets his soulmate, rather than be like ‘oh hey, uh, this is my soulmate, and I’m leaving you for him’. Don’t do that.”

Pete gave a soft little nod. “Okay.”

“Pete. Look at me.” Gerard’s voice was softer, didn’t sound as mad.

“I don’t want you to be upset about it. If you think the universe really fucked up and you love Mikey so much that he should your soulmate, then… I guess that’s figured out. But… I…” Gerard broke off, looking at Frank as if for permission that he could keep talking. Frank nodded. “I don’t think you guys are soulmates.”

“I know. I know. I get it.” Pete sighed and nodded. “I just… I just feel really bad about everything, like there’s something I’m not getting.”

“I think you just need to meet your soulmate.” Frank was smiling, fingers interlaced with Gerard’s. “I think once you meet him, you’ll… you’ll really know what you’re supposed to do. I know I did. The minute I saw Gerard, heard him talking, I knew that he was the one I wanted to spend the rest of my life with.”

Gerard was grinning right back at Frank, looking like, two _thousand_ percent in love. It was sickeningly adorable.

“Once you meet your soulmate, you’ll be hit with such… such fucking immense love it’ll be almost like Mikey never existed.” Gerard paused. “And I mean, I… I don’t wish that on Mikey, I love him, but I don’t want him to waste his whole life on someone who’s not his soulmate. Not—not to say that you’re a waste—fuck, I’m so bad at talking—“

Pete laughed. “No, I get where you’re coming from. I really do.” He stood and cracked his neck. “I… I think I know what to do now. Thanks, guys.”

“Anytime, Pete. You’re always welcome here, even after you break up with Mikey.” Frank grinned as he and Gerard stood and walked Pete to the door.

“I’ll see you guys on the other side, then.”

“That you will. Bye, Pete.”

\----------------

Pete didn’t go home right away. He ended up sitting in a little coffee shop, thinking about everything. He knew what he needed to do, to clear his mind: he needed to meet PMS. But how could he do that, when he didn’t even know where he lived?

He sighed and looked down into his coffee cup and the swirling shades of brown when the bell on the door rung. He didn’t look up, the sharp ringing not catching his attention.

His wrist burning caught his attention, though. 

Pete looked up with alarm, eyes wide. He had to figure it out. He knew PMS was in the coffee shop with him at that moment. He would stand on that table and yell for everyone to freeze and then search everyone’s tattoos if that’s what it would take.

(Just kidding. Pete would never have enough balls for that.)

But he did look around, trying to listen for PMS’s voice.

He didn’t hear anything, to his disappointment, but saw a boy. A boy with reddish hair, short as hell, with a hat on. He was standing next to a way taller guy, with almost an afro of brown hair.

Pete shook his head. He already had a soulmate. Now was no time for looking at cute boys.

But then the boy left and the burning shut off like someone had flipped a switch.

Pete looked back down into his coffee. “Well, fuck.”


	5. Patrick's A Little Upset...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hm so i wasn't planning on them to meet for a couple more chapters just to annoy everyone but i was afraid people'd get annoyed, so you guys are welcome (:

“Joe, I swear to god, if Paul Louis Kevin Wesley the fucking third doesn’t appear soon I’m gonna lose it.” Patrick rolled over from his position on the couch, so he could see Joe.

“Paul… Louis… Kevin… Wesley.” Joe paused a moment before starting to laugh at the ridiculous name. “Are you shitting me?”

“Dude, I don’t know his name! It’s PLKW III, so I’ve been making guesses.” Patrick stood and walked into the kitchen in search of food.

“Okay, that’s reasonable, but I highly doubt it’s Paul Louis Kevin Wesley. I don’t think anyone’s parents could hate them enough to name them that. Even taking out the double middle names, his name would still be Paul Wesley. Terrible.”

“You never know, man. My parents named me Patrick Martin Stump. PMS. I just feel bad for Paul, he’s got PMS on his wrist. I bet he got made fun of in grade school for it.”

“Fair point.”

Patrick made his way back into the living room, snatching up a pair of shoes on his way in.

“Hey, man, we have like, no fuckin’ food, so I’m gonna go get something for lunch. What do you want?” Patrick bent over and tied on his shoes as he spoke, glancing up at Joe over his shoulder.

“Um, I dunno, Chinese or something. You know what I like.” Joe dug into his pocket for a moment before throwing a ten dollar bill at Patrick. “That should cover it.”

“Alright.” Patrick shoved the money into his own pocket, grabbing a jacket before ducking out the door, putting it on as he made his way towards the elevator.

He stood in it waiting for a moment for the doors to close, and just as they did, he saw a figure appear in the hallway and stepped out to hold the doors incase.

As the figure made its way towards the elevator, Patrick felt his chest tighten as he lost his breath.

PLKW.

He stepped into the elevator with a grin, unknowing. “Thanks for holding the door!”

Was his tattoo not burning?

“Uh—uh—you’re welcome.” Patrick fumbled over his words before finding what he was trying to say, backing into the corner.

PLKW’s eyes widened, probably recognizing Patrick’s voice. “Wait—what? What’s—what’s your name?”

Patrick swallowed hard, nervous as fuck. He felt like crying. What if PLKW didn’t want him? Wait—now’s not the time for this! “Patrick Martin Stump.”

PLKW’s eyes went wide. “Ohmyfuckinggod. You’re it. You’re PMS. Oh my god.” He just breathed for a moment before looking back up at Patrick.

“Would you be offended if I—“

“Hey babe.”

PLKW’s words were interrupted by another man’s as the doors opened, signaling they’d hit the bottom floor. He was tall, skinny, wore glasses.

A slow realization hit Patrick—this was PLKW’s boyfriend.

“Hey, Mikey.” PLKW looked at the ground while they exited the elevator, arm weakly around Mikey’s waist. “Uh, this is—this is Patrick.” PLKW looked up at Mikey as if for confirmation.

“Oh, hi! I’m Mikey.” The tall man offered his hand to Patrick, smiling.

Patrick weakly shook his hand, then turned back to PLKW. “Um, I—I didn’t catch your name?” He had to get at least one raindrop of information if he was willing to let his soulmate go like this.

“Pete.” Pete’s face made a sad, gentle smile. His eyes read depression and sorryness. “Peter Lewis Kingston Wentz the third.”

Mikey gave Pete a confused look, to which Pete shrugged. Obviously Pete didn’t give off his full name very often.

“Um, nice to meet you, Pete.” Patrick had to concentrate with his entire being not to just start sobbing.

“Same to you, Patrick.”

Pete and Mikey started walking away, leaving Patrick alone.

At the last second before Pete got in the elevator with Mikey, he looked over his shoulder and mouthed, ‘I’m sorry’ very obviously.

Without thinking any more, Patrick ran up the stairs back to his apartment. He collapsed inside the front door, heart shattered.

Joe ran over, hearing Patrick’s hysterical sobs and gasps for breath, eyes full of concern. “What, what’s wrong, what is it?”

“His name’s Pete.”

\---

Patrick curled over on his bed, pulling his blanket above his head. He knew Pete had a boyfriend but he never thought meeting Pete would be like that.

He… he figured Pete would have left his boyfriend, or would leave his boyfriend and… he’d wanted his fantasy to come true, quite honestly.

He wasn’t sure what to do with life anymore. All that was left of him was cripplingly depressed and just wanted to spend his whole day in bed.

Patrick sighed and checked his phone. No new messages.

He’d practically sat outside his front door the past four days, looking for Pete. He would stand in the elevator for hours on end, looking for Pete. He would walk the halls, looking for Pete.

It was probably stalker-y. But he… he had to find Pete. Figure out what the fuck was happening. Was Pete gonna leave Mikey? Did Pete even give a shit about Patrick?

It was killing him not to know. But… then again.

He wasn’t sure if he could handle it if he met Pete again and Pete was like, ‘uh yeah man, you see, I like Mikey more. Sorry dude’ and left him.

But he had to at least give Pete a chance, didn’t he?


	6. Pete's A Little Sad

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i shouldn't write when i'm tired because i make mistakes but yknow. whatever. i hope y'all like this chapter cause i certainly do. i know it's shorter than the previous ones and sorry my chapters are so short oops i'm not good at writing long chapters, but i'm certainly gonna try to make the chapters longer (unless you guys like them better short?? idk gimme feedback) but um. yeah. that's all. thanks

Pete was silent the whole way up in the elevator, trying his best to ignore Mikey’s arm around him. He blinked again and again and again, trying to really comprehend what had happened.

That was his soulmate.

He was gorgeous. His voice fit his body, and his name—Patrick. He brought his hand to his lips, mouthing the name—Patrick, again and again, feeling it, feeling the motion. As he realized what he was really doing, he coughed to cover it, then dropped his hand.

Fuck.

As he’d walked away, the look on Patrick’s face absolutely decimated his fucking heart. He had to know he was going to break up with Mikey soon. Patrick… he had to know it. He had to know just how much he meant to Pete, already.

It made Pete’s throat tighten, his eyes threaten to spill over tears. He made a small gasping sound, but again coughed to cover it. He wasn’t sure why, but letting Mikey know he’d met his soulmate seemed impossible. He would feel bad if he just said ‘I met my soulmate bye’ and just… left.

But that’s what he had to do. He had to. There was no other option.

But he just felt so bad about it.

The doors opened and Mikey led Pete out, back into their apartment, hand traveling down to Pete’s ass, where it squeezed gently.

Pete didn’t even notice, he was so in his head.

Mikey pressed him against the door and started kissing him, hand traveling up Pete’s shirt. Pete gently pushed his hand down and turned his head so Mikey couldn’t kiss him. He couldn’t do this. Not now. Not when the only thing he could think about was Patrick.

“What’s wrong?” Mikey smirked and kissed Pete’s neck.

Pete slid out from between Mikey and the door, walking into the kitchen to brace his hands on the windowsill, looking out at the street below.

“Pete. What’s up?”

“I just don’t feel good.”

Mikey wrapped his arms around Pete, hugging him tightly.

Pete sighed and broke out of Mikey’s grasp, walking away quickly. He made his way into the living room and sat on the chair where Mikey couldn’t reach him well, bending over to untie his shoes.

“Dude, what the fuck? I was just trying to give you a hug.”

Pete opened his mouth to argue, anger level rising like someone flipped a switch, but quickly shut his mouth again in risk of letting out his secret. “I know. I’m sorry. I just… my head hurts and I feel really hot.”

Mikey walked over and put his hand on Pete’s forehead. “You don’t feel warm. You feel almost cold, actually. Just get some rest and hopefully you’ll feel better later.”

Pete nodded and left his shoes and hoodie by the chair to walk back to his room, climbing under the covers after ditching his clothes.

He pretended to sleep but thought only of Patrick, of what it would be like to hold him, kiss him, cuddle him at night when they were both cold but didn’t feel like getting a blanket or turning up the thermostat, when they just relied on each other’s body heat.

Mikey came in about an hour later, making some soft rustling noises for a few minutes then left again. Pete held his position while Mikey was in the room, waiting until he was out to roll over to face the door, closing his eyes again and pulling the blanket up to his chin.

Pete could only imagine Patrick’s reaction to what had happened in the lobby.

He imagined Patrick running back into his apartment, collapsing just beyond the door, tears pouring over his delicate looking porcelain skin, sobbing uncontrollably. His eyes would turn red, and he’d feel like he couldn’t breathe—but he wouldn’t have anyone to hold him, because Pete wouldn’t be there, Pete would be with Mikey.

Patrick would crawl into bed, tired, and would pull up the blankets above his head and cry some more, already so desperately in love with Pete that he would do anything to get him away from Mikey, to make Pete his own. He would fantasize about Pete the way Pete was about him, and just before he fell asleep, Patrick would fantasize about the most amazing, magical kiss. And when he woke up, he would feel tired and drained, just like he did when he went to sleep, because crying really takes a lot out of you. Patrick would make some breakfast and then crawl back in bed, maybe with a laptop so he wasn’t bored. But he’d end up fantasizing about Pete and thinking about him until he fell asleep.

Pete could only dream of how Patrick thought of him, though, right?

It was hurting his entire heart to think of Patrick doing any of that. It made him cry a little. He blinked away the tears, and hoped his gasping little breaths wouldn’t catch Mikey’s attention.

Pete slowly got out bed and shuffled to the door to close it quietly, before climbing back in bed. He faced the wall and pulled the blanket over his head, letting the tears flow.

It hurt his entire being to think of Patrick being sad over him, of crying over him, and so he cried. Sobs shook his shoulders, tears falling everywhere: the sheets, the pillows and pillow cases, some even getting on the blankets above his head. He gasped loudly, his chest hurting from not getting air while he sobbed.

Pete didn’t even think of not alerting Mikey when he was crying, ignoring all precaution and just crying. He wanted so bad to be with Patrick.

Pete decided right then, he would break up with Mikey. Just kick him out.

But when he walked to the living room, eyes still leaking tears and still catching his breath, Mikey was gone.

 _When he gets back, then,_ he thought.

Would Pete still have the balls to when Mikey came back, though?

He sure hoped.


	7. Patrick Goes To The Bahamas (Or Something)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so i got inspired and decided to write a little. update: it's bronchitis, yay! not. but i got medicine and should be getting better soon. still, i'll be going back to school nonetheless and it'll be hard to maintain but i am going to try my damned hardest and even write during school, because holy fuck i love this story so much, i am crying at the pain i am putting pete and patrick through. anyways, without futher ado, chapter 7!!

Joe was starting to annoy Patrick. Joe insisted that Patrick needed to get out of the house. Aside from work, Patrick went nowhere.

Patrick claimed he was getting over a broken heart, but Joe seemed to know better.

“Dude. Take a fuckin’ vacation. Seriously. You need to get out of the house.” Joe stood in the doorway, hands in his pockets.

“Joe, I… I don’t know.” Patrick frowned and looked at his closet where his suitcase was stored. “I don’t even have the money.” He sat down on his bed, running a hand through his hair.

“I’ll spot you the money.” Joe walked in the room and sat down next to Patrick. “I’m seriously worried about you, Patrick. You haven’t gone anywhere for a couple days. I know that it was awful, losing Pete, but—“

“I didn’t just lose him, Joe! He chose someone over me.” Patrick stood angrily and walked to the window, staring outside pensively.

“So you need to choose someone over him! Bring back a smokin’ hot babe, or a smokin’ hot dude, whatever, and make him fucking jealous! That’s what you gotta do, Patrick.” Joe followed him to the window and set a hand on his shoulder, turning him to look him in the eyes. “Please? For me?”

“… I’ll think about it.”

\--------------

Patrick stared at the plane ticket in his hand, sighing. This was the worst idea ever. But here he was, with a ticket to the Bahamas. Fuck, why’d he do this?

For Joe. Shit, the stuff he’d do for his best friend.

A couple hours later he was finally on the plane, doing his best to ignore Pete and the biting sadness in the back of his mind. Hell, he even checked out some of the people in the airport.

None compared to Pete, of course, but that’s irrelevant.

Patrick eventually got off the plane, and got his bags and left the god damned airport. He was sick of people for a while. He was gonna just go to his hotel room, watch some tv and relax—

But that was the opposite of what this vacation was for, wasn’t it?

Patrick sighed.

He dropped off his bags in his room and stepped out onto the balcony. (Joe insisted on a room with a balcony.)

Patrick leaned on the rail, taking in the scenery. It wasn’t all that bad. It was pretty pleasant, actually. Maybe this wasn’t so bad an idea after all.

\--------------------- 

Scratch that. This was the worst plan in the entire world.

But Patrick didn’t seem to think so. (At least, not at the moment. He would later.)

Because at the moment, he was making out with a guy in the dark corner of a bar, and he was almost in the dude’s lap, and holy shit Patrick was making out with a guy and was almost on his lap, holy shit. Patrick pulled away for a moment, breathing and looking the guy in the eyes. He couldn’t remember why this felt a little wrong. He ignored the feeling and went ahead and climbed all the way into the guy’s lap, kissing him again.

The guy—Patrick thought his name was Bill, maybe? He couldn’t quite remember.

“Hey, uh, do you wanna go back to my apartment?”

Patrick pulled away to look into his eyes again, giving a big sloppy nod before giving him a big sloppy kiss to match.

Patrick was way too drunk for this.

They were waiting for the cab outside, and Billy or whatever the fuck his name was had Patrick pressed against the wall and was kissing him and it was so fucking hot, and his knee was between Patrick’s thighs and was pressing up into Patrick’s crotch, goddamn.

“Nonnonono, we gotta wait until we’re in your apartment,” Patrick said, voice slurring. He blinked and tried to regain his focus.

“Okay.” Billy(?) kissed him one more time before pulling off him, just holding Patrick’s hand.  
It wasn’t until Bill started swinging their hands together that the small tattoo on Patrick’s wrist came into the light and Patrick started freaking the fuck out.

He immediately pulled his hand from Bill, holding it close to his chest. He felt like he’d cheated on Pete.

“Patrick?” Bill turned to look at Patrick with concern. “What is it?”

“I—I—can’t, I can’t, I—“

Patrick blinked back tears, gasping for air before turning and running away to his hotel. He gasped and wheezed, forgetting for a moment his asthma, as he ran back to his hotel room so he could call Joe and cry.

Once in the safety of his hotel room (and under the safety of albuterol, thank god to inhalers), he dialed Joe’s number, tears pouring down his face.

“Joe, I, there was a boy named Bill, and he was cute, and I almost went to his apartment, Joe, I—“

“Patrick? Patrick! Calm down. Deep breath. I can’t understand you when you’re crying.”

Patrick took a moment to breathe before continuing to talk. “I was—I was in this bar, and I’m drunk, ohmygod I’m so drunk, and I almost cheated on Pete with this cute guy named Bill, I almost went back to his apartment, Joe—“

Joe laughed loudly, the grin apparent in his voice.

“What?”

“Patrick, that’s the whole point of this trip! To get over Pete.”

Patrick made a tiny pouty face. “I don’t wanna get over Pete.”

Joe was quiet for a moment, as if considering. “Okay. You just go to sleep, Patrick.” He had a knowing sound to his voice.

“… Okay.”

Patrick hung up and slowly peeled off his clothes to fall into bed. He was just a little sleepy… okay, maybe—maybe a little more than a little…

\-----------

When Patrick woke up the next morning, he had a fucking massive headache. The first thing he did was call Joe.

“Joe? My head feels like it’s going to fucking explode, what the fuck is happening.”

Joe laughed loudly, and Patrick pulled the phone away from his ear, wincing.

“Shhh! Shut up. What is wrong with me.”

“You’re hungover, dude. Do you not remember your late night crisis with Bill?”

Patrick thought for a moment, sitting up. “Fuck, I—what happened?”

“Well, you called me about one am, sobbing hysterically about how you almost cheated on Pete with this cute guy from the bar named Bill. You sounded drunk as fuck, my man.”

Patrick groaned and stood, shuffling his way to his bag for some ibuprofen.

“Fuck, man. Hangovers are terrible.” Patrick dropped back into his bed with a groan.

“I know, man. I know.”


	8. Pete's In Trouble

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> woo i just can't stop writing this buT GUYS SERIOUSLY next chapter is gonna be GR8 trustmetrustme

“Pete! Come on, we’re gonna be late.”

_Fuck._ Gerard was going to _kill_ Pete.

But Pete hadn’t seen Patrick in days, so how was he supposed to break up with Mikey when, for all he knew, Patrick had run off with that curly-haired guy from Starbucks?

Pete groaned and put on his shoes, trying to go as slow as possible.

“Pete, I don’t even give a fuck if you’re sick, we’re going to Gerard and Frank’s party! It’s their anniversary.” Mikey whirled around Pete, grabbing everything he needed.

“I know, I know.” Pete sighed and stood, shoes on, to grab his coat. After securing it, he was out the door, Mikey a step after him.

“Took you long enough.” Mikey grinned at Pete, carrying a casserole dish. Pete really hoped it wasn’t actually a casserole. He hated those.

“Oh, shut up.” Pete smiled and shoved Mikey with his shoulder, his smile literally 100% fake.

They walked in silence for a while until they made it to Gerard and Frank’s apartment. Pete hid himself behind Mikey a little as Mikey rang the doorbell.

“Be right there!” In a moment, Frank was at the door with a smile. His smile faltered when he saw Pete, however he maintained it for Mikey’s sake.

“Hey, guys! Glad to see you. Come right in.” Frank walked away from the door, back into the kitchen, leaving Pete to close the door.

Mikey followed Frank as Pete closed the door slowly, bracing himself for the shitstorm he was going to get from Frank and Gerard. When he turned around, to no one’s surprise, Gerard and Frank were waiting.

Gerard grabbed Pete’s arm and dragged him back into the apartment into his and Frank’s bedroom, closing the door quietly before beginning to yell.

“What the _fuck_ , Pete?” Gerard ran his hands through his hair exasperatedly.

Frank crossed his arms over his chest, glaring. “Dude. We fucking _told you_ to break up with Mikey, and you—“

“Shut up!” Pete threw his hands down in frustration, eliciting a surprised look from both Gerard and Frank. “Just _shut up_ , okay? Do you think I’m fucking happy about this? Do you? In case you do: _I’m not._ I met him, okay, I met my soulmate. His name’s Patrick. And oh my god, I love him. But I also love Mikey. And—and after I met Patrick, he went missing. He’s been gone for a week. I think he ran off with another dude. So, yeah, I’m not gonna break up with Mikey when I see no reason to. So both of you can kindly _fuck off._ ”

Pete spun away from the two and stormed towards the door, when a hand caught his arm. “Let go of me.”

“Pete. Hold on.” Frank spun him around gently. “Hey. We didn’t know. We’re sorry. You don’t have to anything. Right, Gee?” The shorter man turned to look at the taller one.

“Yeah, I guess.”

Gerard didn’t look quite as accepting as Frank did, but Pete was okay with that. “Thanks.”

\--------------

Pete was just dreading going home. He had been essentially avoiding Mikey the entire party because Mikey tended to hang on Pete a little—or, rather, forced Pete to hang off him. It was almost as if Mikey wanted to show every single person there that he and Pete were together. Pete normally loved it, because Mikey was almost showing him off, but that day Pete couldn’t. He couldn’t be seen with Mikey. The look in Gerard’s eyes was enough to not make him want to be there period.

So when Mikey finally tracked him down and said it was time to go home, Pete felt his entire stomach drop.

Mikey kept a smile on while they said their goodbyes, but Pete saw right through it: in his time with Mikey, he’d grown to learn Mikey’s facial expressions and knew that the smile was 100% fake.

Mikey was silent the entire walk home, and even as they got in their apartment. It was, quite honestly, terrifying. It wasn’t until Pete was carrying the empty casserole dish into the kitchen that Mikey let it out.

“What the fuck was that, Pete.” Mikey threw his shoes towards the shoe cubby by the door, obviously angry.

“What, uh, what do you mean?” Pete gingerly set down the dish and then walked back into the living room to take off his own shoes, gently setting them on the cubby.

“You. Ignoring me. The whole fucking time.” Mikey threw his jacket down.

“I wasn’t ignoring you, Mikey. I just wanted to have conversations of my own.” Pete shrugged.  
“Besides, if you wanted to hang out with me, you should have just come found me and said so.”

Mikey scoffed loudly and turned to Pete, hands on his hips. “Really?” He rolled his eyes and pushed past Pete forcefully.

“What? How is this my fault?”

Mikey spun on his heel, glaring daggers at Pete. “You’ve been barely paying me any attention recently. What is it? Are you cheating on me? Found another new whore since you can’t find your soulmate?”

Pete recoiled in horror at Mikey’s accusation, looking horrified. “What the hell, Mikes? How could you think that? You know I love you.” Pete tried to walk towards Mikey but Mikey held his hands out in a ‘stop’ gesture.

“Do you really? Pete, I… I honestly don’t know what to think anymore.” He turned around and kept walking to their room.

“Mikey!” Pete jogged a few steps to catch up with him. “Babe, please. I love you.”

Mikey scoffed and held the door about half open. “I’m sure you do.” And then there was a door in Pete’s face.

\-----------------

A few days later, Pete left. He was sick of Mikey treating him like a child so he up and left. He wasn’t gone long, he just sat in the lobby downstairs waiting to try to find the curly-haired guy. He had to know what was happening with Patrick.

On hour two, he finally saw the guy. He took a moment to figure out what he was gonna say before running up to him.

“Hey, um, do—you know Patrick, right? Patrick Stump?”

The guy narrowed his eyes. “Yeah. Why? Who are you?”

“Don’t—don’t kill me, but I’m Pete. Patrick’s my—Patrick’s my soulmate.”

The guy took a moment to let the information sink in before he was fuming, looking like he was ready to kill Pete. “Do you fucking know what you did to Patrick?”

“Hold on, hold on! Let me explain.” Pete threw his hands up in front of his face. When he peeked through his fingers, the guy didn’t look any happier but wasn’t about to punch Pete. “Okay, so, um—I’ve been… I’ve been dating this guy named Mikey. But… I’m ready to leave him for Patrick. I love Patrick. But… I haven’t seen him in a week, and I’m—I’m worried, do you know where he is?”

The guy crossed his arms. “Yeah. He took a vacation.” He gave Pete an apprehensive look. “Why haven’t you broken up with the guy yet?”

“I…” Pete bit his lip. “This isn’t a good reason, by far, but… if I didn’t have a future with Patrick I didn’t want to lose Mikey. If—If I know Patrick’s coming back and I’ll have a future with him, I’ll dump Mikey in a second, I swear to god.”

“Yeah, well, you should have told Patrick that before he left.”

“I know.”


	9. Patrick's Return (Cue Dramatic Music)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow this was actually done Monday but I procrastinated posting it oops. anyways enjoy this shitty chapter and I swear it'll get better next one (I'm still really bad at fic writing sorry)

The trip wasn’t exactly what Patrick needed to forget Pete but it surely helped. He had almost completely forgotten Pete—not, necessarily, that he did forget Pete, but kissing boys definitely helped to put the boy out of his mind.

It was about a week in when Patrick started getting suspicious of how Joe was acting. When Patrick told him about the new boys he’d been kissing, instead of cheering him on and congratulating him, all Joe said was, ‘oh, that’s nice.’ Most definitely suspicious.

Though Patrick still had 2 more days left in his trip, he was rather sick of trip and decided to come home early—he’d surprise Joe and maybe figure out why the hell he was acting so fishy.  
So Patrick packed his bags, had a final drink at the local bar (and kissed two more guys, way to go Patrick) then changed his return ticket home and waited in the airport for his flight. After a refreshing nap on the plane, Patrick was ready to go home.

When he knocked on the door, grinning, he was surprised when he didn’t hear Joe’s voice at first. There was a moment of shuffling and the scuffling of sneakers on the floor before he heard a voice ring out inside. It definitely wasn’t Joe’s, but he couldn’t quite place it.

A moment later, Joe appeared in the crack of the door. “Patrick! You’re home! Early!” He grinned and waited a moment, glancing behind himself before opening the door more to let Patrick in.  
Once Patrick was inside, Joe crushed Patrick in a bear hug that quite honestly, almost suffocated Patrick. Not exactly pleasant.

“Hey, Joe, uh—can’t—can’t breathe, mind letting me go a little?” Patrick coughed and squirmed against Joe’s grasp.

“Oh! Sorry man.” Joe released Patrick but was grinning. “So what brings you back early?”

“Oh, I just got bored. There’s only so many boys you can kiss before you get bored.” Patrick frowned as he started to carry his bags to his room. “Anyways, I missed you too and just was missing home and everything.” He shrugged and left his suitcase by his bedroom door before exiting to the living room again.

“Oh! Well I’m glad you’re back.”

“Me too.”

\--------------------

“Dude, did the store get nothing new while I was gone?” Patrick scoffed and walked away from the current bin he was searching at the local record store, rolling his eyes.

“Not really man, not really.” Joe laughed and kept going through his bin, but Patrick noticed he kept looking up every few seconds.

Patrick walked over to Joe and nudged him. “Who you looking for? That hot girl?”

Joe blushed a teeny bit. “No.”

“Mhm. Hey, you keep looking, I’m gonna get some fresh air.”

“Alright.”

Patrick left Joe searching as he exited the store, getting a good lungful of brisk chilly air before adventuring into the big plaza, filled with people. He stopped in front of a fountain, staring up at the spewing water, as he heard two voices that sounded oddly familiar.

“Mikey, for the last fucking time, I’m not cheating on you!”

Patrick considered the voice and words for a second, repeating the phrase in his mind until it clicked.

_Pete._

He kept his gaze on the fountain as he kept listening, taking note of the bickering and the whiny tone in Mikey’s voice.

“Pete, you’re not even paying attention to me! You’re scanning the crowd.”

Patrick could almost hear the eyeroll in Pete’s voice. “Yes, because I’m not allowed to look anywhere but at your face. I’m so sorry.”

“God, Pete, stop acting like a child.”

“You’re the one acting like a child!”

Wow, Mikey was an ass. Jealous, much?

Wait. Holy shit. The voices were getting louder. They had been in front of him to the left but now they were close, really close. Patrick kept scanning the crowd until Pete’s small form broke through.

“Mikey, please stop. I promise, I’m not cheating on you. I love you.”

That, in and of itself, broke Patrick’s heart, but he just ignored it as he kept listening.

“How can I believe you, Pete?”

Time seemed to slow down as Patrick considered what to do. Should he stand up for Pete and risk giving himself away? If he didn’t, he… he’d never have a future with Pete. Or maybe he would. It didn’t sound like he and Mikey were going anywhere. But still. He just couldn’t sit there and listen to Mikey treat Pete like trash, though.

“Hey. Stop fucking being an asshole to Pete. He already fucking told you he’s not cheating. Don’t you have ears?” Patrick raised his voice as he looked dead at Mikey, so Mikey knew _exactly_ who it was.

“And who are you?” Mikey crossed his arms, glaring.

“A friend of Pete’s. Who I am isn’t important. The important fact is that you’re being an ass to Pete. Knock it off!” Patrick made his way through the crowd until he was standing in front of Mikey and Pete.

And holy _shit_ , the look on Pete’s face was worth it.

He was 100% amazed, in awe of Patrick. He was very obviously trying to keep the grin off his face as he watched the two argue, eyes flickering back and forth between the two.

Patrick just hoped he was doing the right thing.


	10. Pete's Kinda Happy (More Than Kinda)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ohmygod I'm sorry this took so long to update! I'm truly awful. I've just gotten so busy with school and whatnot that writing has slipped my mind. This update is really really shit honestly because I started it like a month and a half ago and couldn't figure out what to do next but it wasn't long enough to be a proper chapter and then today I was like "damn I gotta finish that" so here we are! And also I was gonna put some porn-y shit at the end of this chapter but then I realized 'I can't write that kinda stuff' so I deleted it and left it off there.

To be quite frank, Pete’s whole head started spinning when he saw Patrick come through the crowd. In complete honesty, the moment that he even _heard_ Patrick’s voice, his whole body felt like ice.

He wanted it, so fucking _desperately_ bad to be Patrick, he thought at first he was completely imagining it. He ignored it, pushed all those biting thoughts to the back of his mind, and tried to focus on the topic at hand: arguing with Mikey. As much as he really loved Mikey, ohmyGOD he could be an ass.

So when Patrick came strolling through the crowd defending Pete, his entire world had been exploded.

When Patrick looked to him for confirmation, he was absolutely awestruck. He was amazed that, after all that had happened, Patrick was still defending him and cared. Given, it may have not been by much, but Pete would honestly take just about anything he could get at that moment.

Patrick looked unsure of what he was doing, so Pete flashed him a dazzling smile, earning a matching one right back at him.

“Pete. He can’t be serious.” Mikey turned to look at Pete with an apprehensive expression. “Really? I’ve never even met this guy.”

Pete raised an eyebrow, sporting an ‘are you shitting me’ look. “Yeah you have. In the lobby at the apartment building.” Pete snorted. He knew he really, really, shouldn’t, but it felt good saying the next few words. “Wow, shows how much you care about me. You can’t even remember when I introduce you to one of my best friends.”

Mikey looked taken aback. Good.

 

“You can’t be serious right now, Pete. You—“

“You know what, Mikey, no.” Pete moved away from Mikey and stood next to Patrick. “I’m sick of this. I’m—I’m sick of your belittling, treating me like a child, blaming literally every single problem in this relationship on ME. It’s not all my fault! I am not the only person in this relationship!”

He stole a glance around the little triangle. Mikey looked upset, but Pete couldn’t honestly be prompted to care. Patrick looked amazed, but also a little scared. That was the part that upset Pete.

“Pete—“

“No, I’m not fucking done.” Pete sighed. “For the last two weeks, you’ve been nothing but malicious and rude and fucking hurtful, and I’m done. Done with you, with this relationship, everything. I’ll come by and get my stuff later, or you can—I don’t even give a shit.”

Now Patrick looked _really_ starstruck. Mikey looked even more upset.

“Pete, you can’t mean it!”

“I do. I’m serious. I’m sorry.” Pete was crushed just the tiniest bit by the broken look on Mikey’s face, quite obvious in his voice too, but he still didn’t care very much.

Mikey sputtered for a moment, trying to figure out what to say, before just sighing and storming off, leaving Pete and Patrick alone.

Pete waited until he couldn’t see Mikey anymore until he turned to Patrick, starting off with, “I’m really sorry you had to see that, but I just—“

Pete was cut off by, to his complete wonder, Patrick’s mouth on his. Pete just stood for a moment in confusion before Patrick pulled back, blinking rapidly.

“I’m—I’m sorry, I figured that because you broke up with Mikey—“

Pete grabbed Patrick around the waist. “Shut up.” He kissed Patrick back hard, feeling Patrick’s hands hover for a second before sliding into his hair, gently pulling but not enough to signify to Pete to stop kissing him. They remained in that position a moment longer before they were interrupted by a voice.

“Hot damn, Patrick! You finally got some action!” 

Patrick scuttled backwards, and Pete tried not to act too hurt by it, but Patrick looked embarrassed and was blushing, scanning the crowd for the voice. Joe appeared out of it and slung an arm around Patrick’s shoulder. “I’m proud of you, little man.”

“Oh, shut up.” Patrick rolled his eyes and brushed his hand off but was grinning.

“And Pete, my man, I’m glad you finally dumped that assbag. He was seriously a dick.” Joe grinned and clapped Pete on the back.

“Thanks.” Pete smiled a little tentatively and looked back at Patrick, raising an eyebrow. 

Patrick raised an eyebrow back, eyes flashing between him and Joe. 

Joe smirked a little, looking back and forth between them, before grinning and clapping both of them on the back. “Alright, I’ll fuck off now so you guys can go back to making out or whatever. Only one request: no loud sex in the apartment, Patrick.”

Patrick rolled his eyes but nodded. “No problem. Later, Joe.”

“Later guys!” Joe walked off, heading back towards the music store, leaving the two blushing boys alone.

Pete turned to Patrick rather tentatively, and started to open his mouth to talk, but then Patrick’s mouth was on his and _damn_ why did he waste time with Mikey when he could have had this.

Pete only kissed him for a moment before he realized that, shit, they were in public and he didn’t want to do anything stupid yet. He pulled away, licking his lips, eyes on the ground. He looked up at Patrick nervously, then blurted out the words before he could really think anymore: “Do you wanna go back to my apartment?”

Patrick laughed a little, leaving Pete confused. “Didn’t you say you’d come by later? Mikey’s probably at your apartment right now.”

“Shit.”

Patrick just laughed again, that beautiful fucking angelic voice of his laughing was like a god damned eargasm, then pulled out his phone. “I’ll just tell Joe to stay out of our apartment for a while. We’ll get it figured out.”

“Oh. Okay.” Pete just watched Patrick for a moment while the younger man sent his roommate a text, taking inventory of every aspect of his face.

Sparkling blue eyes, red-blonde hair peeking out from under a hat, the best nose Pete had ever seen in his entire life, and full pink lips.

“Alright, he said he’d go to Andy’s for a while. Let’s go.” Patrick slid an arm around Pete, pulling him tight to Patrick’s hip, and _fucking shit_ Pete loved everything Patrick was doing.

\--------------------

Pete looked around as they entered the apartment. He kind of wanted to live there forever. The stacks of vinyls on the coffee table, the pile of shoes by the front door, coats hung on the rack, coffee cups strewn through the kitchen and living room, everything seemed so home-y.

Then Pete paused for a moment, like, ‘holy shit what’s happening.’ He’d never felt this warm and… bright before. That was a shitty way to describe it. From the moment that he’d kissed Patrick, his entire demeanor had changed. He just wanted to spend every minute with Patrick.

Patrick grabbed Pete’s hand and led him back into, presumably, his bedroom. He kicked off his shoes and tossed his jacket in the corner, flopping down on his bed.  
“So, Pete. Peter Lewis Kingston Wentz III.” Patrick laughed and rubbed his thumb over the tattoo on his right wrist, eyes glancing down at it before looking back up at Pete. “God, I- I can’t believe this.”

“Patrick Martin Stump.” Pete smirked and leaned in, giving the other boy a chaste kiss. “You’d better start believing it.”

“I know, I just- when I saw you with Mikey and stuff, do you know how much it destroyed me? I thought I was literally dying.”

Shit. Pete had been hoping Patrick wouldn’t bring this up. “I know, I’m really sorry. Mikey and I really liked each other and had fun together and stuff and we figured, when we find our soulmate, we’ll just explain and part happily. But Mikey and I had been together almost a year and a half, so I was pretty serious about him. And then I felt the- the thing, you know?” Pete held up his wrist, arm falling back in his lap. As he continued speaking, Patrick ran his fingers over the tattoo. “And I was really conflicted. Because I felt it once and then you were, like, _gone_ yknow? And if you had disappeared or something, I didn’t want to just throw away what I had with Mikey, but in retrospect, that was stupid. I should have left him immediately and tried my best to find you. We could’ve avoided this whole shitfest.”

Patrick considered his words for a moment before looking up. ”Yeah, well… I kinda like how this turned out. I mean, it kinda sucked, the process to getting here, but I’m quite happy with the present. It’s not _that_ much of a shitfest if it had a happy ending.” He grinned up at Pete.

“That’s a very good point, Trick.”

Pete leaned in, left hand cupping Patrick’s cheek, kissing him gently, just savoring the moment and the way Patrick felt.

Patrick pulled away for a moment. “We need to figure out what we do after this.” His eyes were pointed down, but he was still so close to Pete that he could feel Patrick’s breath on his mouth.

“We get married and live happily ever after.” 

“That’s a no brainer. I mean, where do we live? I can’t just kick Joe out, and if Mikey doesn’t wanna move-“

“Then we’ll find our own place that’s even better than either apartment. Don’t worry, Trick. It’ll be fine.”

“Okay.” Patrick kissed him, tongue tracing over his lower lip and teeth as his hands grabbed at Pete’s waist.

Pete smirked into Patrick’s mouth, breaking the kiss only to lean back on the bed, Patrick following his lead by swinging a leg over his body to straddle him, mouths meeting once again. Pete slid his hands up to grab Patrick’s waist, fingers working to undo Patrick’s pants.

Patrick laughed a little, fingers working into Pete’s hair as Pete fumbled to get Patrick’s pants undone.

“Jesus _fuck_ Pattycakes, did you superglue this shit together?” Pete lifted his head to look at his hands and what he was doing, unfastening the button and unzipping his pants with a frown.

“I thought you were smooth, Pete. I figured you’d be able to take my pants off one handed, backwards, and blindfolded.” Patrick smirked and brushed Pete’s hair out of his face.

“Okay, well, normally I can, but your pants are stupid.”


	11. Patrick Likes Burger King

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow I really hate this update too?? I'm beginning to not like this entire story because of bad planning and executing in the earliest chapters. I wish I could go back and rewrite them, but that would lead to a different outcome and I don't feel like rewriting the entire story. I do have a plan for another story though, so once this is over (or maybe just towards the end) I'll start working on that.  
> However, once we get past these few chapters where I have no clue what the fuck I'm doing, hopefully the story'll get better and pick up. Or it'll turn into a giant suckfest. Oh well.

Patrick was living in pure bliss. Every moment he spent with Pete was the best moment of his life, and yet, the very next moment had already outdone the previous one. It was glorious.

“Hey, babe, what’s for dinner?” Pete turned to look up at Patrick from where he was laying with his head in Patrick’s lap, eyes sleepy and hair mussed up.

“I dunno. I was thinking maybe we could go out?” Patrick slowly trailed his fingers through Pete’s hair, eyes locked into Pete’s.

“That’s a great idea. And then we can have car sex afterwards.”

Patrick flicked Pete’s forehead with a laugh, rolling his eyes. “Dickweed. We’re not having car sex. Not in your car, anyways. It’s too small.”

“Fine. Then bathroom-of-the-restaurant-sex!”

“No, Pete!” Patrick laughed again and kissed Pete’s forehead before worming out from under him, leaving a very sad and distressed Pete.

“Triiiiick, why’d you leave?”

“It’s already five, so I gotta get ready to go out. I need a shower.” Patrick paused in the hallway, looking back at Pete.

Pete jumped up and bounded over to him, wrapping his arms around Patrick’s stomach. “Can I shower with you?”

Pete never stopped. “While I much enjoy our shared showers, no. I never actually get clean when I shower with you!”

Pete dropped his arms and jutted out his lower lip in a pout. “You suck.”

“You swallow.” Patrick grinned and leaned in, catching Pete’s pouty lip in a kiss, only lasting a moment before Patrick pulled away, continuing down the hall towards the bathroom.

\----------

It was probably a really bad idea to let Pete pick the restaurant. He’d found the fanciest, and probably the most expensive restaurant nearby. While it was gorgeous, it was also way overpriced.

“Pete… I would have been perfectly fine with something like Applebee’s.” Patrick raised an eyebrow as he sat down, questioning Pete’s taste in restaurants.

“Yeah, I know. But you deserve something a little more fancy every now and then, yknow?” 

“I suppose. But holy shit, have you looked at these prices? Twenty five dollars for a steak. That’s ridiculous.”

“Yeah, well, I’m paying, so get whatever you want.” Pete had a very mischievous and deviant look on his face as he opened his menu, eyes scanning over the different meals.

Patrick just pursed his lips at Pete, but looked back at the menu to find something worthwhile. He finally decided on a steak-looking thing. He wasn’t entirely sure what it was but it looked good, so he got it.

“So, Pattycakes. Do you like the apartment?” Pete leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table and his chin on his hands.

They’d moved into Pete’s apartment, Mikey having decided to move closer to Gerard. And to be honest, Patrick loved it. The gentle sun rays that cast in every morning while Patrick was making coffee, the lazy way Pete had just left stuff out and made him feel way more at home than he ever felt living with Joe (then again, he wasn’t dating Joe, but you get the point) and most of all, the nights when he and Pete would just fall asleep cuddled together on the couch, perfectly happy and content, and it felt like all was right in the world.

But Pete would probably find that a _little _bit cheesy, so Patrick settled for a much blander option.__

__“Yeah, I love it! It’s great.” Patrick smiled as he took a sip of his drink, hoping his response didn’t sound too vague._ _

__Pete narrowed his eyes. “That’s a kind of vague response.” _Shit._ “Are you sure? Cause we can always find somewhere else-“_ _

__“Yes, Pete, I’m sure. I fucking love the apartment, but I didn’t want to sound overly cheesy and lame.” Patrick blushed madly and hid behind his drink again, eyes looking far off to the right._ _

__“Aww, Trick, you should have just said so.”_ _

__“Yeah, well-“_ _

__Then he was interrupted by the waitress. Damn her and her timing._ _

__She set down the plates with a dazzling fake smile and then rushed off again, barely having said a word._ _

__Patrick looked apprehensively at his plate. That didn’t entirely look like the picture._ _

__“Well, bon appetite, right?” Pete’s voice was unsure and confused, looking at his own plate with apprehension as well._ _

__“I guess.” Patrick shrugged and picked up his fork and knife, sawing into the meat to take a bite._ _

__And holy shit that was nasty._ _

__Patrick fought the urge not to just throw it up, seeing as that would probably be a huge turn-off to Pete, and just generally disgusting for everyone in the general area._ _

__“Trick? You okay?” Pete wore an utterly concerned expression, food forgotten._ _

__Patrick gave a quick nod as he swallowed his food, chasing it with a huge gulp of his water._ _

__“That was disgusting. Like, literally, no flavor. What the fuck.”_ _

__Pete gave a loud, ringing laugh, head tipped back at Patrick’s utter disgust. “It can’t be that bad. Maybe it’s just what you got. Let me try mine.” He took a bite- and Patrick was met with the same expression he’d just made_ _

__Pete forcefully swallowed it then looked at Patrick. “God damn, that’s nasty.”_ _

__“Do you wanna send it back and ask for a refund, like, ‘this shit’s nasty give us our money!’?”_ _

__“Nah, we’ll just pay for it. I’ve got the money. But let’s fucking ditch this place, it’s bad.”_ _

__Patrick nodded in agreement and tossed his napkin on the table over his food, taking a quick sip of his water before following Pete to the counter to pay._ _

__As they were walking out, Patrick slid his arm around Pete, except Pete just grabbed Patrick’s butt. Classy._ _

__“So, what are you thinking? We still gotta eat.” Pete pulled his hand from Patrick’s ass as he dug the car keys out of his pocket._ _

__“Burger King.”_ _

__“Fuck yeah, I’m always down for Burger King.”_ _


	12. Pete's Ignorant, Apparently

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually like this update!!!! It's really long!!! And a cliffhanger. This is honestly one of the best chapters writing wise in this entire fic in my opinion, the words just flowed and flowed and I had to stop myself from continuing writing because of the way I have the plot planned out.  
> (And yes, those are Paramore lyrics. I couldn't think of any good songs that would be cute except that one, so.)

Pete was really surprised when Mikey texted him. Like, mind blown surprised. Like, ‘holy shit I never would have expected this in a million years what the fuck are you doing?’ surprised. So, the natural response was to throw his phone across the room in terror at what Mikey Fucking Way wanted, especially after such an explosive and seemingly devastating (to Mikey, not to Pete) breakup.

Patrick popped his head in the door. “What was that?” He raised an eyebrow at Pete, and Pete scrambled to cover his tracks.

“I, uh, dropped my phone.” Fuck. That wasn’t believable, his phone was on the other side of the room.

“Oh. Alright.”

Pete loved Patrick so much in that moment. So much he kind of wanted to go kiss him a lot, but as Patrick walked back into the kitchen, he decided that that wasn’t the best plan of action: the best plan of action was to grab his phone and see what Mikey wanted.

Pete slowly stood and scurried to the other side of the room, scooping up the electronic and almost turning it on before deciding that it would be really bad if Patrick saw. He could only imagine the devastated look on Patrick’s face.

So to cover his tracks even more, Pete dashed across the hall into the bathroom, flipping down the toilet lid to sit and read through the text.

_hey pete. i wanna talk, u free later this week? –mikeyway_

Every urge in Pete screamed to respond ‘no, I’m not free, nor will I ever be,’ because god damn it, Pete had a good thing going with Patrick and _really_ did not want to mess that up. But, of course, because Pete Wentz isn’t a very smart fellow, he tapped back a different response.

_yea, how abt saturday at 2 at ur place. –petewentz_

_sounds good. ill text u the address later. see u then -mikeyway_

And then Pete had the revolutionary moment of ‘what the fuck am I doing?’ and he almost started crying. But Pete was a man, so he knocked that shit off and manned the fuck up. No crying in baseball. Except this wasn’t baseball, so—you get the point, it’s a fucking metaphor. Pete shoved his phone in his pocket and looked in the mirror, asking himself out loud, “What the fuck are you doing, Pete?” but quietly, of course, because he didn’t want to alarm Patrick.

What was he doing? Going to see an old friend. Who just so happened to be his ex boyfriend. But he’d found his soulmate, so what did that matter, honestly? It didn’t. At least, Pete thought. He wondered how Patrick would react. Probably not very well, that’s how. But… he and Mikey were friends before they ever dated, so—it couldn’t go too wrong, could it? He loved Patrick with his entire being and he knew right then that he would never do anything with Mikey again—but what was to stop Mikey from trying to do something? He just didn’t know the outcome, and honestly, that scared him. Pete didn’t want to wreck the beautiful mess he had with Patrick over something so dumb, so trivial. Yet he didn’t want to leave Mikey with questions unanswered, so he decided right then: he would go. Pete would go, and not necessarily tell Patrick, which wasn’t lying, but he would go and if Mikey did anything, he’d slap him right in the face and leave. And then sick Gerard and Frank on him for advancing on a guy who’d already found his soulmate.

How devious.

\-------------

Pete glanced at the clock on Saturday morning- 7 am. He hadn’t slept again, worrying over what would happen later that day. He looked over at Patrick, sleeping soundly next to him, and just watched him for what felt like hours, but was fifteen minutes in reality. He watched the gentle rise and fall of his chest, his nostrils puff with every breath, taking in the pure beauty of Patrick Martin Stump.

Patrick cracked one eye open. “Have you been watching me?”

“A little.” Pete smiled sheepishly as he brushed the hair out of Patrick’s eyes to get a better view of the sparkling blue orbs.

“Can’t sleep?” He opened the other eye and turned his lips down in a semi frown, eyebrows furrowing in concern.

Pete gave a sharp shake of his head. “Nothing to worry about, though. I’m just worrying about stupid stuff.”

Patrick grabbed Pete’s hand and pressed his lips over Pete’s knuckles in an attempt to calm Pete down. “Do you wanna talk about it?”

“Not really.” Pete turned on his back, eyes fixing on the ceiling as he heard a soft, almost inaudible sigh from the man next to him.

Pete heard rustling and felt a jostle in the bed as Patrick sat up, brushing his thumb over Pete’s knuckles on one hand, his other hand idly, gently raking through Pete’s hair. And then he started singing.

_“When I was younger I saw my daddy cry and curse at the wind. He broke his own heart and I watched as he tried to reassemble it. And my momma swore she would never let herself forget. And that was the day that I promised, I’d never sing of love, if it does not exist.”_

Pete could already feel himself slipping away, body feeling like lead and soaking into the comfort of his bed, eyelids seeming unreasonably heavy.

_”But darling you are the only exception.”_ Patrick repeated the words, over and over, seemingly a million times as Pete slowly faded away into sleep.

\----------

When Pete woke up again, it was 1:13 in the afternoon, and holy shit he was glad he hadn’t overslept. Then he felt the dread of remembering his dream: Patrick had left him. He wasn’t sure why, but it terrified him. He glanced around for Patrick, then grew slightly worried when he didn’t see the red-haired boy. Unreasonable panic and anxiety growing in his throat, Pete called out, “Patrick?” in a cracking voice, breath catching in his throat.

Patrick rushed in at the panicked tone in Pete’s voice, sitting on the bed next to him and just hugging him and kissing his forehead, whispering, “It’s okay,” over and over and over. Pete wrapped his arms around the other boy, panic and fear slowly subsiding until he felt alright and could move from the warm cocoon of love that was Patrick’s hug.

“What was that about?” Patrick brushed the hair from Pete’s eyes, giving him a skeptical look.

“I just. Had a nightmare. About you leaving me.” Pete’s eyes were cast downward, focusing on the comforter tangled between his legs.

Patrick leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to Pete’s forehead. “I’d never do that. Ever. You hear me?” He hooked a finger under Pete’s chin and raised his head to look him straight in the eye.

Pete grinned at Patrick’s overly serious expression but nodded.

“Alright. Good.”

Patrick stood and stretched, and Pete could only stare at the small strip of skin that appeared as Patrick’s shirt rode up.

Pete grabbed his hands and pulled him back, pressing his mouth against Patrick’s, teeth catching Patrick’s lower lip, earning a little gasp from the boy. But reluctantly, Pete pulled away, resting his forehead on Patrick’s. “I wish I could do that all day.” Pete captured Patrick’s lip again, not getting a gasp this time but the way he kissed back was just as good.

“Well, why can’t you?”

“I have a stupid appointment thing to go to. My mom asked me to go, and I can’t remember why, I just know it’s pretty important.” Pete pulled away from Patrick and stood, discarding his wrinkled sleep shirt for a new one.

“Do you want me to come with? It might be something upsetting or something.”

Fuck. Pete hadn’t expected that.

“No, it’s cool. She didn’t sound worried, just said she wanted me there.” Pete shrugged, digging around in his drawer for his least tight pair of jeans, not wanting to give Mikey any impressions. 

“Oh, alright. If you’re sure. But if something comes up and you want me there, just call me and I’ll come.”

“I know, Pattycakes.” Pete leaned down to kiss Patrick again. He really loved kissing Patrick.

“Okay. Just making sure you know.”

\-----------

“Pete! Come in.” Mikey grinned from the doorway, opening the door more and extending his arm to lead Pete in.

He nervously entered, hands stuffed into the pocket of his hoodie.

Mikey closed the door then darted in front of Pete, leading him into the living room where he sat down on the couch, gesturing for Pete to sit on the adjacent chair.

“So, um, what’s this about?” Pete took his hands out of his pocket, but his fingers began nervously tapping on his legs.

“I just wanted to talk. Make sure we’re on good terms. Because I like you as a friend, Pete. No more. Don’t worry, I’ve found my soulmate- she’s with her parents right now. Her name’s Kristen, and… she’s the best thing I ever could have wished for.”

And that right there let a lot of weight off Pete’s shoulders. Pete audibly sighed and slumped his shoulders, relief flooding his body.

“Thank you, Jesus. I was really worried I was gonna come and you’d make an advance or something, I don’t know, you know how I am.”

“I do. Listen, Pete, I—I’m really sorry about the way I acted at the end of our relationship. When I met Patrick in the lobby, I could… I could tell from the way he looked at you that you guys were soulmates. That and the fact that you blabbed your entire name, which you never do. You weren’t exactly subtle.”

Pete laughed a little nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. 

“And honestly, I got afraid of you leaving me. I was afraid that I’d never meet my soulmate and that I was gonna be stranded for the rest of my life with only Gee and Frank for comfort, and honestly, they’re not very fun.” Pete laughed out loud at that, nodding in agreement. “I just got really defensive and jealous when it wasn’t my place to be. I’m sorry.”  
Pete just smiled. “It’s cool, dude. I should have let you know from the start that I met Patrick. It was a huge dick-move of me to just lead you on like that.”

“It’s all good now, dude. I’ve got Kristen, you’ve got Patrick. We’re good.”

“Alright. I’m really glad.”

“Same here.”

\-------------

Mikey called him a few minutes before he got home, wondering if he’d like to meet Kristen and if he could properly meet Patrick. He said yeah, he’d have to talk it over with Patrick, but yeah probably. Except Pete wasn’t thinking when he walked in the door and hadn’t hung up yet.

“Alright, well, I’ll talk to you later, Mikeyway. Bye.”

The look on Patrick’s face was stomach turning. He looked surprised and hurt.

“Was- who- were you-“

“Patrick. Take a deep breath before you had an aneurysm and let me explain. That was Mikey. Mikey Way, my ex boyfriend.” Patrick opened his mouth but Pete reached out and pushed his finger into Patrick’s lips in a ‘shush’ manner. “I know what you’re thinking. Kind of. It’s all good! Mikey found his soulmate. Her name’s Kristen. He called me while I was out and explained everything and we’re on good terms now.”

Patrick’s eyes just got sadder and sadder. “Really, Pete? After all the shit that guy put you through?”

“What do you mean?”

“He was a dick!”

“Yeah, but he apologized. He realized he’d been a dick, that’s the important thing.”

“I don’t _care_ , Pete, he still was a huge asshole!”

Pete stood up, scoffing, and stormed into the kitchen, hearing Patrick following him. “Patrick, you can’t control my life! I’ve forgiven him! He explained why he was an ass, and honestly, I have you now so I don’t even give a shit!”

“God, Pete, you’re—your ignorance in this is baffling.”

“What fucking ignorance?!”


	13. Patrick Messed Up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... I'm sorry my chapters still suck? This was honestly a badly thought out fic but I still want to finish it, and the next fic I make will be way more planned out and I'm gonna edit it a LOT before I ever post it. These chapters are posted as I write them and at this point, I'm not even having anyone proofread them because I just wanna get this over with because I don't like this that much anymore. Good concept, bad execution.

“What fucking ignorance?!”

“Pete. Mikey Way is an asshole. Do you not remember how he acted in the end of your relationship? He treated you like the scum of the earth! He was truly a shitstick.”

Pete looked like his eyes were going to pop out of his head in his anger. “Patrick! I- You—this is not your decision! Mikey and I made up. He apologized, and sounded really fucking genuine—and you know what? I accepted it. I’m not mad, and since this was MY problem, not your’s, you can kindly chill the fuck out and get out of my business and stop being mad about things it’s not your place to be mad about.”

Patrick felt like seventy two emotions at the same time, even though he wasn’t even sure which emotions they were. The biggest ones were anger and sadness. “You know what? Fuck you, Pete.” Patrick spun on his heel and stormed down the hallway, heart breaking in his chest.

“What?” Pete jogged after him, sounding panicked.

Patrick stopped in the doorway, spinning around to face Pete. “We’re soulmates. It really is my business to be upset. I don’t want to see you get hurt again, Pete.” Patrick could feel tears building up in his eyes, the burning in his throat that almost took away his breath. “Mikey just strikes me as… as a rude guy.”

“That’s because you never knew him, Patrick.”

“That’s—you’re missing the point, Pete! I don’t trust him! He had no reason to treat you that way!”

Pete scoffed, folded his arms across his chest, rolled his eyes. “Not your place, but whatever…” he muttered under his breath.

“Seriously, Pete? I’m not _deaf_ , you know. We’re soulmates, so thank you very much, it IS my place. If you don’t think so, you know where the fucking door is.” Patrick turned away, walked further into the bedroom and stood at the window, waiting to see how Pete would react.

He heard a sigh, a scoff, some shuffling, then footsteps and a slammed door.

Fuck, what had he done?

\-----------

Patrick laid in bed for hours. Crying. Sobbing uncontrollably.

Naturally, he called Joe and had him bring over ice cream like he was a heartbroken teenage girl, because that’s how he felt. And alcohol, because Patrick was a grown ass man.

“Joe, he’s so dumb!” Patrick wailed around his mouthful of cookie dough ice cream.

“I know, Patrick, I know.”

“I miss him already. How do I get him back?” Patrick slumped against Joe, dramatic and sad.

“You apologize, calmly bring up your point, and come to a compromise.”

“Okay.”

Patrick blinked rapidly as he turned on his phone, scrolled through contacts to find Pete’s name surrounded by hearts and the little monkey emojis and random other emojis, clicking call tiredly.

He was met with a dial tone which felt like it went on for about 3 hours, then the voicemail tone.

_”Hey, you’ve reached Pete. Leave me a message, I may or may not call you back.”_

“Heeeey, Petey, my love, my sunshine, my stars—I love you. A lot.” Patrick giggled, words all slurred together. “I’m ssorry about what I ssaid. I llove you, Petey. Plleasse come home. Okay byebye I llove you.”

“That was just great, Patrick. Fantastic.”

“Are you being sarcastic, Joe?”

“Yes.”

\--------------

Patrick not only woke up with a massive hangover, but a sticky face from ice cream and dried tears.

And no Pete.

Definitely the worst part.

Patrick stumbled out to the kitchen, where he downed some advil and water, before stumbling _back_ to his room. He grabbed his phone and was alarmed to not only see a missed call from Pete, but a voicemail too.

He dials voicemail and punches in his password.

_”You have one unheard message. First unheard message. _‘Hey, Pattycakes.’” God, he sounded sad. “’I miss you. Sorry I left. I’ll be back at some point. Not sure when. Sorry baby. I love you.’”__

__That broke Patrick’s heart again. He wished he had never said what he did, wished that he could have Pete in his arms at that moment._ _

__Fuck, he messed up._ _


	14. You're So Stupid It Hurts, Pete

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my god you guys probably hate me? I'm literally the worst. Why would I do this, you ask? I enjoy writing angst. It's one of the only things I can write well. It'll resolve in the end, so don't get too upset.

Pete wasn’t entirely sure what he was doing as he left the apartment, slamming the door behind him. He let out a huge breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding as he fell against the door, closing his eyes as he did so. Pete stood there a minute, composing himself and collecting himself before he moved.

He pretended he didn’t start to hear Patrick crying as he walked away.

He pretended that he didn’t care as he walked to the nearest bar, feeling an urge deep in his veins to drink and take a pill, to block out everything he felt.

He only drank, but holy shit he _drank._

Pete probably had twelve shots on an empty stomach, and found himself flirting with a rather prostitute-y man sitting next to him. The guy’s finger trailed back and forth across the PMS on Pete’s wrist, which Pete tried to ignore, but he failed miserably. 

He felt unimaginable guilt and sadness, but instead of actually facing his problems, he ordered more tequila shots and got hammered.

Then got a rather slobby blowjob in the bathroom.

Pete looked at the guy as he looked up at Pete, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and Pete felt like he was gonna puke.

Not from the alcohol, though that was part of it, but the fact that he had just cheated.

Pete wasn’t a cheater.

Fuck.

“Fuck. Fuck! Fuck fuck fuck FUCK!” Pete scrambled to put his dick away, shuffling away from the guy as fast as he could, feeling anxiety and panic rise up in his throat, breath escaping him as he panted and hyperventilated, zipping up his jeans and running out of the bathroom, freaking the fuck out.

In an anxiety-fogged panic, Pete ran to Mikey’s apartment and pounded on the door, hot tears streaming down his face.

Mikey answered the door, looking casual as he first opened it his face painting worry as he saw Pete. “What- Pete? What are you doing here? Are you okay?”

Pete couldn’t even answer through his choked breaths and gasps, just shaking his head no and trying to hold himself up on the door frame.

Mikey wrapped an arm around him and led him into the house, sitting him down on the couch, hugging him and gently ‘hush’ing him like you would a baby.

It didn’t help a bit. Only Patrick could have calmed him down from an anxiety attack that bad, except he had totally fucked himself over.

An hour later, when Pete had finally calmed down to the point where he could speak without crying again, he told Mikey what happened.

Then got a well-deserved slap.

“What the fuck were you thinking, Pete? If Patrick was uncomfortable, you should have been considerate and agreed not to see me! I would have fucking agreed and been okay! Why did you put me over your relationship?”

“I don’t know, Mikeyway. It wasn’t even you. It was that Patrick didn’t believe that I could handle myself. It hurt, thinking that he thought I couldn’t manage myself.” Pete slumped down into the couch, rubbing at his tired eyes, yawning. Crying always tuckered him out.

“Pete… You’re in for a shitstorm tomorrow, I’ll tell you that.”

“Yeah.”

Pete napped for a few hours, then woke up to a voicemail from Patrick.

_“Heeeey, Petey, my love, my sunshine, my stars—I love you. A lot. I’m ssorry about what I ssaid. I llove you, Petey. Plleasse come home. Okay byebye I llove you.”_

Patrick was so fucking drunk. It had probably been Joe that brought the alcohol, seeing as Patrick would have been too upset to even leave bed.

Pete forced himself to call back, almost hoping he would get voicemail so he wouldn’t have to face talking to Patrick just yet. He needed to figure out how he would tackle that conversation.

_”This is Patrick! Sorry I missed your call. Leave me a message and I’ll call you back ASAP.”_

Pete took a deep breath and waited for the tone to leave his message. “I miss you. Sorry I left. I’ll be back at some point. Not sure when. Sorry baby. I love you.”

Pete ended the message and dropped his phone, sighing in disgust at himself.

He debated many things in his head.

He loved Patrick, so much. So much it probably wasn’t healthy, but he didn’t really care all that much because god damn it, they were soulmates. That’s probably why Pete’s fuck up hurt himself so bad. He knew that Patrick was the only person he’d ever find that he was a full match with and he’d just blown it. He was afraid he’d completely blown it, and with this newest development, he was afraid Patrick would leave him and never come back. Pete could almost see it in his head, the dramatic slap and door slam, sending Joe to get his things the next week. Patrick would go live with his mom for a while, but would get over Pete. Except Pete would never get over Patrick. He would live for years and years and years, holding out hope that Patrick would someday come back. He wouldn’t move from the same apartment, in fear that Patrick wouldn’t know where to find him. He would leave a note on his front door for if Patrick came while Pete wasn’t at home. It would say, ‘ _Patrick- If I’m not at home when you come by, I just want to tell you I still love you. I’m sorry, and I love you. I love you to the moon and back._ ’, which, in actuality, was stupid and cheesy and something Pete would never really do, but he was being dramatic in this dream. Except Patrick would never come back, years and years would go by without Patrick, and Pete would end up 80 years old, a recluse, living in the same apartment, with the same sign, wrinkled and torn but taped together all the same, still holding out hope that someday Patrick would come back.

Pete was over dramatic sometimes, but that was mostly the anxiety and depression hurting, sending him into an over drawn out panic that he’d never see Patrick again, and then Pete was met with the feeling that he needed to see Patrick right at that very fucking moment, so he ran out the front door, ran all the way to their apartment.

He stopped outside their front door, anxiety filling his chest as he composed himself, catching his breath before knocking on the door.

“Be right there!”

A moment later, Patrick was opening the door, and he… surprisingly looked okay. He didn’t look as bad as Pete, that’s for sure.

“Pete!” Patrick’s voice was surprised.

He looked Pete up and down for a moment, and opened his mouth to say something before he was cut off.

Cut off by a crushing bear hug from a weepy Pete, all the anxiety in his chest releasing into almost another anxiety attack but he held it together. He just hugged Patrick, panicking for almost a second before Patrick hugged him back just as hard, hearing a content little sigh escape from Patrick’s lips.

Pete pulled back to pepper Patrick’s face with kisses. “I’m so sorry, Trick, God. I’m sorry.” He paused for a moment, taking in Patrick’s face to memorize it in the case he didn’t see Patrick again.

“It’s okay, Pete.” Patrick took Pete’s hand and led him into the apartment, sat down on the couch.

“Wait, Patrick- I. I can’t. I can’t do this.”

Pete pulled away from Patrick’s grip and stood behind the chair, Patrick still on the edge of the sofa, face slowly melting into a confused expression. “What can’t you do?”

“Patrick, I need to tell you something.” Pete’s throat got tight again as the anxiety rose, tears bordering on his cheeks. “Last night, I… I got really really drunk. So drunk I couldn’t think.” Pete’s eyes locked in on the floor, a stain Pete’d left from coffee. “I… somehow…” Pete stopped again, catching his breath before continuing, “somehow got so drunk I. I let a guy give me a blowjob.”

Patrick was silent. Processing.

Pete watched carefully, watched his lips twitch and eyes narrow and unnarrow, fixed on a far off point that wasn’t Pete.

Patrick stood, and in almost robotic motions, walked to Pete. He kissed his cheek, murmured, “I love you,” before leaving the apartment.

Pete only had time to stumble to the kitchen trash before puking. He was so stupid.


	15. Patrick... What Did You Do?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hoo boy another sad chapter. y'all are gonna hate me for a while.

Patrick moved in with Joe. He sent Joe to get his stuff, not being able to bear to see or even think about Pete.

He mostly just spent his time trying to block Pete out of his mind, throwing himself into his work and music, completely unsure how to feel about everything that had happened. And sometimes, he would just get lost in his head for hours on end, which at points was bliss but other times torture- sometimes he managed to block out thoughts of Pete, and sometimes all he thought about was Pete. 

Joe was probably getting fed up with him. He moved back in, but never even spoke to Joe- mostly became a recluse, staying in his own room, only leaving for work and food. But he couldn’t bring himself to actually talk to Pete about it, about what had happened and resolve it. He was too hurt.

It made him feel like Pete didn’t really love him. Like… like he was one of Pete’s throw away girls. Or boys. Whatever, you get the point. He felt like Pete had never _really_ loved him, just pretended to. And honestly, that was the part that hurt the worst. The fact that there was the possibility that the universe had fucked up, and Pete was right to be with Mikey- in which case, that just made Patrick feel even shittier.

The only advice Joe could offer him was ‘just talk to him’ but… there was something about it that upset Patrick. He was so mad, but so upset at the same time- all he wanted was for Pete to come apologize, and he knew Pete already had, but he felt like it wasn’t enough. He’d started by saying sorry, so it was like he knew when it was happening it was wrong, but he’d let it happen anyways-

It was thoughts like that that were the ones that trapped Patrick in his mind, latching onto one bad idea and carrying it through until he found any kind of reason that would make it okay for Pete to have cheated, because otherwise he just couldn’t see why he should forgive Pete.

There was always the reason of ‘he’s my soulmate and I love him’ but… Pete’s fuck up seemed larger than the world at that moment, at every moment when Patrick thought about it.

But he still missed Pete with his every being. If he woke up in the middle of the night, cold, he would reach out into his bed, searching for his space heater boyfriend, only to find nothing and be slammed with the terrible realization that Pete wasn’t there, hadn’t been there, wouldn’t be there. Those were the times that were the worst. He was always forgetting Pete wasn’t there, so used to him that when he wasn’t there, it threw Patrick for a loop. He would play something cool on guitar, and open his mouth to call for Pete to hear, then realize there was no Pete. And then he’d promptly cry for a few minutes, missing Pete so hard it physically hurt.

But despite everything, Patrick couldn’t seem to find it in himself to forgive Pete. That was probably really stupid. He missed Pete but couldn’t ignore the fact that Pete was horribly stupid. Not in a bad way, but in a way of he didn’t think very much before making a decision. Sometimes he didn’t think at all. That was how he’d gotten into this predicament.

\-------------

“Patrick, I get that you’re hurt, but you need to suck it up and go just freaking talk to him! I love you, dude, but it’s killing me to see you like this. You guys need to make up and get freakin’ laid so you’re happier.”

“Joe, I can’t just- I can’t.” 

“Why _not?_ ” Joe folded his arms across his chest, leaned his weight on one hip, all sassy and angry.

“I- he needs to apologize. Formally. Tell me he really loves me.”

“Patrick, Jesus Christ- HE DOES LOVE YOU. You guys are soulmates, and he was sobbing and saying sorry as he told you.” Joe ran his hands through his hair, spinning around to storm off into the apartment.

“You weren’t there, Joe. He said it like he was just trying to keep me- like he wasn’t _really_ sorry.”

Joe stopped in the hallway, turning back to give Patrick an ‘are you shitting me’ look before scoffing and continuing down the hallway, calling out, “You have to make up at some point!”

“I know!” he called back. He sighed and muttered under his breath, “I just want him to do it first.”

\---------------

Patrick should have returned Pete’s hoodie a week ago. But he didn’t want to. When he really missed Pete, he’d put it on and curl up in bed, the neckline pulled up around his nose so all he smelled was Pete- the scent of Pete’s cologne, a bit of sweat, the everlasting, lingering smell of his laundry detergent. He buried his face in the fabric, inhaling the scent deeply and just trying to not miss Pete as much. It didn’t much help.

It also didn’t help when Joe stuck his head in his door with a phone call.

“It’s Pete. You’re not answering your phone so he called mine.”

Patrick looked up with a pit in his stomach. He took a deep breath and extended his hand for the phone.

With a slightly worried expression, Joe walked in further and handed over the phone, sitting down on Patrick’s bed.

Patrick held the phone up and held his breath after saying, “Hello?”

There was an audible breath, like a sigh. A pause. “Patrick?” in a really, really shaky voice.

“Hi.” Patrick’s voice started shaking too, looking to Joe for comfort.

Joe gave him thumbs up. Sooo helpful. Not.

“Patrick, baby. I’d come see you in person but I’m sick right now and don’t wanna get you sick, so I’m just calling- anyways. I miss you, Pattycakes. And god, I’m sorry. I never should have done what I did. I don’t think I’m ever going to be able to forgive myself, so I don’t know how you will either, but I’m asking you to cry because I love you so much, you don’t get it-”

“Pete… I-” Patrick paused, gathering his thoughts. “I’m sorry but I can’t. Not right now. I… I’m gonna need time. And I miss you too, I love you, but I- I need time to process this and be okay.”

“I get that. Okay.” Pete sounded horribly depressed and that made Patrick want to cry. Voice shaking and gaspy, obviously crying, Pete said, “Alright, well. J-j-- just call me when you- Yeah.”

“Bye, Pete. I love you.”

All Patrick heard after that was a click and silence. Pete was gone.


	16. Pete, You're Not a Widow From The 1910's

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> haha so this is late and you guys probably don't like me even more now.  
> I'm honestly disliking this stupid story more and more because of my crappy writing in the beginning and the fact that I can't seem to write anything that's any good so I'm just trying to wrap this up so I can move onto my next project  
> also, tw: mention of drug and alcohol.

“Pete. Let me in.”

“Noooooooooooo. That requires standing up.”

“Pete. Seriously. Let me in or I’ll- well, I can’t break down the door but I’ll find a large stick to break a window.”

“Oh, shit, he’s serious, guys! Oh no!” Pete rolled his eyes, but threw his blanket off to shuffle to the door, clothes and hair disheveled from doing nothing but laying on the couch for the last couple of days. After the door swung open and Mikey entered, Pete spun around and shuffled back to the couch, falling over onto it face down into his mountain of blankets.

“Pete, come on. You need to do something. You can’t just lay around in bed all day.”

“Watch me.”

Mikey sighed and walked to Pete, grabbing his hand and tugging on it. “Pleeease. Get up. You’re not helping yourself by laying around and wallowing all day.”

“Yes I am. I’m remembering what a piece of crap I am for doing such a shitty thing to Patrick, so it’s completely helping me right now.”

“Peter. Do you want me to call your mother?”

Pete sat up. “Nope. I’m good now. True story.”

Mikey laughed loudly, brightly, a sound he hadn’t heard in a long time. “Go shower. You smell bad. I’m gonna clean up.”

Pete sighed and contemplated refusing and having Mikey smack him or just showering. He chose the latter.

“Fine.”

Pete stood and walked away to the bathroom, rubbing his eyes to try to wake himself up. He closed the door behind himself and leaned against it, frowning deeply, grinding his teeth together. He pushed Patrick from his mind, focused on the current task on hand: taking his clothes off. He would literally take this one step at a time.

He pulled off his sweatshirt, stained with spilled food, then his sweaty tshirt, and as he lifted his arms, he gagged. Holy shit, he did smell. He next whipped off his pant, boxers, and socks, dropping them in the hamper by the door before making a mad dash across the icy cold tile floor to the shower, hopping in and cranking on the water.

Pete just stood in the water for a few minutes, letting the warm water fall like rain on his back, the hair at the nape of his neck curling up with the humidity and water. After that, he poured shampoo into his hair and rubbed for a moment before he rinsed it out, sighing as the hot blast of water released tension in the muscles in his shoulders, feeling the suds run down his back.

After he’d washed down his body and then stood for about ten more minutes under the water, Pete finally conceded and stepped out, wrapping a towel around himself and drying off.

Pete exited the steamy bathroom, walking quickly in the seemingly frigid air to his bedroom. He closed the door and dropped his towel, assuming Mikey was in the kitchen or something where the real mess was, starting to dig through his drawers for clothes.

“Oh, uh- Pete, pick up your towel.”

Feeling his cheeks starting to burn, Pete scrambled to grab his towel, wrapping it around his waist.

Mikey laughed a little as he walked up to Pete. “I normally wouldn’t have a problem, seeing as I’ve sucked your dick, but since we’ve both found our soulmates, it felt inappropriate to stare at your dick.”

“Yeah… thanks.” Pete bit his lip, blushing still, as Mikey walked out of his room, closing the door gently behind him.

Pete once again dropped his towel and tugged on clean boxers and pajama pants, wiggling his way into an old tshirt that smelled oddly different, but familiar, before exiting his room again to meet Mikey in the kitchen.

“Coffee?” Mikey held out a mug.

“You’re my savior, Mikeyway.”

Later, Pete realized it was Patrick’s shirt. That made him feel just great. (NOT.)

\------------------

“This isn’t so bad, huh?”

“It is so bad.”

Mikey had just fucking dragged him to a Starbucks, of all places. He had ordered both of them coffees, but Pete didn’t pay attention so he didn’t know what he was even drinking, and then Mikey had sat them down at a window table, saying the sunlight would be good for Pete.

“Aww, Pete, you don’t mean that.” Mikey pouted, sipping his coffee with a sad look.

“I totally mean that. This sucks.” Pete slurped down a mouthful of hot coffee, not letting it sit in his mouth long enough to really taste it, just trying to inhale it to get the caffeine.

“Pete. What exactly is so bad?”

“I just want to be at home right now.” Pete rested his chin in his hand, fingers tapping idly on the table.

“What, and lay on the couch eating ice cream and Cheetos for two more weeks?”

“Yes!”

“Pete. No. You need to try to get better.”

Pete took another gulp. “No I don’t. It’s like I’m a woman in the 1910’s or whatever and I have to stay in a grieving period for like 10 years. I gotta grieve, Mikey.”

“Pete, I get that—but you can’t just lock yourself in. That’s not going to help! You’re just going to make yourself feel worse, thinking about what a piece of shit you are. A week passes, then two weeks, then a month, then two months, then you realize, wow, I’m a piece of shit. A huge one.” Mikey took a big gasping breath, his voice raising to a loud speak, not gaining attention but loud enough for Pete to feel uncomfortable. “And you know what comes after that? Drinking! You drink all the fucking time, Pete.”

Mikey shook his head. “No. You know what, no. I can’t- I can’t do this, Pete. I’m sorry. I love you like a fucking brother, man.” Mikey’s eyes were watering at this point and his voice was cracking. “But if you’re too stupid to realize what you’re doing, then, I- I can’t help you.”

Mikey stood up and left, coffee in hand, leaving Pete alone at the table in Starbucks, depressed and hating himself more.

Pete got himself home in a stupor, draining his coffee blindly.

He flung open cabinets and drawers to find where Mikey had hidden the Adderall all those months ago when he thought Pete was in danger, digging through everything in a panicked rage, making a mess as he threw things out of the cabinets and fridge, dumping entire drawers out before he found a tiny orange prescription bottle hidden behind the peanut butter.

Pete took a handful and fell asleep on the couch.


	17. Patrick Fixes This Shit

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (((:   
> hi. you guys will like me now.  
> also, this is the longest chapter I've ever written... yay? also longer than any other fic I've written I believe. Who knows (:  
> Anyways! What chapter is this, 17? I can barely keep track. It feels like there's still a long way to go with this story, but there's only gonna be 21 chapters so that's only 4 more. Oh well, I'll try to make them really long. (:

“Patrick?”

Patrick heard a hard knock and a sigh, followed by a pause and then another knock.

“Rick!”

“What, mom? I’m up, I’m up!” Patrick sighed heavily as he sat up, rubbing his eyes against the violent light streaming through the window.

“Come downstairs, breakfast is ready. It’s 10am.”

“Exactly! It’s 10am, far too early to be up.”

“Get up!”

Patrick heard footsteps moving away from the door, then down the stairs. He groaned and rolled over, burying his head in his pillow. He so did not want to wake up today. His bed was so comfy and warm, and his room was so… not comfy and not warm. Yuck. He laid in bed for a few more minutes before deciding it was in his best interest to get up, figuring that his mom would probably be after him if he didn’t. Patrick stood and jumped on the cold wood floor for a second before finding socks. He sat down for a second, already tired from his early morning exercise (not!), contemplating his activities for the day.

Absolutely nothing. He’d been working from home since, obviously, he couldn’t really commute back and forth and he’d finished his work earlier in the week since he had nothing to do. Which left him in even more of a predicament.

Fantastic.

Patrick sighed and grabbed his phone, sliding it into his pocket as he shuffled down the stairs, greeting his far-too-chipper mother with a mumble of ‘good morning’, which sounded more like “g’ m’n’n.” Having lived with Patrick for 18 years throughout his childhood, Patricia understood immediately and turned to smile at her son, spatula in hand.

“There’s pancakes if you want some. I’m just finishing the last few.” She smiled and turned back to the oven, flipping a pancake.

“Oh. Thanks.” Patrick, still doing his tired-shuffly-walk, moved to the plate of pancakes. He retrieved his own plate from the cabinet and tossed three on his plate before sitting at the table and drowning said pancakes in syrup. Next, he threw a pat of butter on and BAM, that shit was perfect.

Patricia sat down a few minutes later with her own plate of pancakes, eating them delicately, quite the opposite of her son, who was demolishing the food like he’d never before been fed a day in his life. “So, Rick, did you sleep well?”

“Yeah, mostly. Still getting used to sleep in such a tiny bed again.” Patrick smiled, trying his best to ignore the fact he’d just lied to his mom. The small bed didn’t bother him, it was the absence of Pete’s space heater body in his bed that bothered him.

“Oh. Should I invest in a bigger bed?”

Patrick laughed brightly. “No, I don’t think so. I won’t be staying here long, I just… need to recuperate. For a little while, anyways.” He smiled again, but this one was a little strained, forced, and Patricia caught on immediately.

“Alright, baby. Just take as much time as you need. You know you’re always welcome.” She smiled, one of those mom smiles that just made Patrick feel good.

Moms were the best.

The beautiful moment was interrupted by a loud and abrupt ringing from his pocket. His phone. Who the hell was calling him at 10:11am anyways? Patrick pulled his phone out of his pocket. The caller ID said… Pete?

Patrick looked to his mom, nerves already on edge as he slid his thumb across the screen to answer the call. “Hello?”

“Patrick?”

“Yeah, I’m- this is he. You did call my phone, afterall.”

“Obviously it’s not Pete. Sorry to have scared you and all by calling from Pete’s phone but I didn’t have your number and figured you’d answer if it was Pete’s number- anyways. I… I think you need to come. Pete… he’s not good, Patrick. He- well, he got upset, kind of because of something I said to him but he was unstable before him, and he took something, I’m not sure what, and- he’s so not okay right now.”

There was a pause, and some breathing. “I don’t know, seeing you might make him worse but- it- you’re my last resort, Patrick. He’s begged me not to call his mom, I don’t know, and I’m scared for him. I know that you guys are kind of in a break right now, but-“

Patrick interrupted him. “I’ll be there as soon as possible.”

“Okay. I’ll… He’s sleeping right now. Or should be. Yeah. Again, I’m sorry to have to force this on you but I just- I don’t know what else to do.”

“You did the right thing by calling me, Mikey. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Wait, how’d you know it was me?”

“Who else would know the password on Pete’s phone?”

\-------------------------

An hour and a half later, after a shower, an anxiety attack, and a mad dash to pack his things together, Patrick was on the road. A moment later, it seemed, he was parking the car outside his apartment building.

Pete’s apartment building. Not his anymore.

It could be.

Patrick shook his head, ridding his mind of such thoughts and grabbed his phone and keys, trying to remain as calm as possible as he made his way to the door, then to the elevator. His mind flashed back to when he met Pete, having still considered him as PLKW III then. Paul Louis Kevin Wesley. He smiled softly as he waited, the elevator giving a little lurch as it slowed, dinging and the door opening.

Patrick took a deep breath and tried to maintain a leisurely walk down the hallway to the apartment. He carefully knocked on the door, his hands shaking just a tiny bit.

Mikey answered the door. He looked like crap. His hair was in a mess, standing on end in every which way, his shirt was wrinkled and half tucked into his sweatpants, and he had incredible bags under his eyes.

“Hey, Patrick.”

“Hey, Mikey.”

Patrick slowly walked into the apartment, taking in the appearance. It smelled, first of all. Of old pizza, Cheetos, B.O. and musty, stale laundry. Ew. There was trash everywhere and it didn’t look like anyone had run a vacuum or swept in… well, six weeks. That’s how long he’d been gone. Shit.

He felt his breath catching in his throat, eyes burning with tears, and froze, feeling horrible guilt build in his chest. Mikey set a hand on his back, pushing him gently towards the hallway.

“Pete needs you.”

That’s what cleared Patrick’s mind, the guilt and anxiety, anything else he felt. The only thing he felt at that moment was the overwhelming urge to save Pete, to get to Pete. To hold Pete, to kiss him, to say he was sorry.

Patrick walked down the hallway quietly to surprise Pete, stopping in the doorway. Pete was in bed, just a tiny lump under a mountain of blankets, dirty laundry strewn all over the floor. Patrick felt Mikey walk up behind him, hearing a creak from the floorboard. Just that one spot.

“Hey, Pete. You’ve got a visitor.” Mikey shot a smile and a thumbs up at Patrick before he left, leaving Patrick to face this alone.

He waited and watched as Pete rolled over in his blankets, throwing some of them off. He crawled out from under them, eyes blurry for a moment before they focused in on Patrick.

“Hey, baby.”

Pete’s eyes started getting blurry again. Voice cracking, shaking, he said, “Patrick?”

“Pete.” With the both of them crying, Patrick rushed forward to jump on the bed and hug the shit out of Pete, stroking his hair and burying his face in Pete’s neck, tears staining Pete’s shirt. (Actually, that was Patrick’s shirt. Guess he didn’t take all of his stuff with him.)

“Pete, baby, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I love you. I’m sorry.” Patrick swayed back and forth a bit, hugging Pete so tight he was afraid he was hurting Pete but didn’t want to let go in the fear that he’d lose Pete again.

“I am too. I’m sorry, Pattycakes, I’ll never do it ever ever again. Do you hear me?” Pete pulled back, but Patrick kept his grip on Pete’s arms. “I’m never gonna even _look_ at anybody else. I love you so much, you’re the only person I love.”

So he kissed him. (That is, Patrick kissed Pete. Too many ‘he’s and ‘him’s. Confusing.)

Patrick pulled away, burying his face in Pete’s neck again. “I’m never going to leave you.”

“I figured as much.”

Patrick just breathed Pete in for a few minutes, gathering his thoughts now that he felt calm again. “Listen, I- I know we’ve had some problems and all. And… I know that I didn’t really even want to leave that much I just needed some space for a little while. To kind of get it to stop hurting so much. It didn’t work, all that happened is it hurt worse, but- I. I’m not sure what I’m even saying at this point. I guess… I know you promised you’ll never do it again, but I’m just saying that I don’t think I can handle it if it does happen again. You know?”

Pete just nodded.

“I don’t know, I feel like I’m pulling shit out of my ass because this isn’t supposed to be this easy and I feel anxious, like something bad is gonna happen because we didn’t talk about it.”

“I know, Pattycakes. But if I ever do it again, you have my permission to kick me straight in the balls and leave my ass. Don’t even feel bad. I’m not kidding. I’m surprised you took my ass back once. It’s like that saying, ‘fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me.’ I don’t fucking know.” Pete laughed. “But I am never ever EVER ever going to do it again.” ……….. “Ever.”

Patrick laughed and kissed Pete again, crying again.

When they had hugged and kissed each other through their tears for about twenty minutes, Patrick finally stood up, offering his hands to Pete. “Come on. We gotta clean this place up.”

Pete grinned.

\----------------------- 

Pete didn’t help Patrick clean, but then again, he never did. He offered encouragement and showered and collected laundry and for the first time, actually started a load.

“Pattycakes! How much detergenty stuff do I add? And fabric softener?”

Patrick set down the broom and walked to the little laundry room, smiling as he was met with a very confused Pete. Patrick grabbed the bottle of detergent and spun off the cap. “You kinda guesstimate. If it’s a small load, then just a little bit. If it’s a big load, then a lot! There’s some lines you’re supposed to use but I forego that and wing it. Also, I don’t think we have fabric softener. All it does is make your clothes smell good and that’s a waste of money so I never buy it.”

Pete grinned as he pulled a bottle out of the cupboard above the washer. “We have like three in here. I think it’s leftover that Mikey bought and then never used.”

“That makes sense.” Patrick grinned. “Basically, for this one, you fill it to the line and pour it in the middle part, then fill the cup with water and pour it in until the waterline hits the little cross thingie.”

“Oh! Okay. Thanks, Trick.”

Patrick kissed his cheek. “You’re welcome.” He went back to the kitchen and grabbed the broom, just observing the damage for a moment. They’d first cleaned up trash, but there was still a mad amount of clutter and random shit, not to mention the actual dirt on the floors and the mountain of dishes.

Patrick first finished sweeping, then mopped, then vacuumed. Then he cleaned the rest of the shit up, did dishes, and glanced in the bathroom before deciding it was actually alright for the time being and collapsed in the bed. Thankfully, Pete had changed the sheets earlier because they were gross.

Pete fell in bed a moment later, having given up on his laundry duties. He faced Patrick, smiling softly. “I missed this.”

“What, being in bed together?”

“No. Looking at your face. It’s a good face.”

Patrick laughed, and then Pete laughed. It was a great sound. High and dolphin-like but fucking adorable and Patrick loved it. He reached over and brushed Pete’s hair from his face, getting a good look at his eyes. He had already memorized Pete’s entire face but still enjoyed looking at it anyways.

“I love you. You know that, right?” Pete wasn’t smiling, but looked serious, slightly worried.

“Of course I do. I love you too.”

“No, I mean. I seriously love you.”

Patrick smiled. “We’re soulmates.” He held up his wrist and looked at the tattoo. Pete raised his own wrist, looking at it for a moment before grabbing Patrick’s wrist and kissing the letters, lips soft on Patrick’s skin.

“It’s kind of weird that you’re kissing your own name when you think about it,” Pete remarked a moment later after he’d stared at the letters for a few more seconds.

Patrick laughed loudly, hard, harder than he felt like he’d laughed in months. He hadn’t realized how much he’d missed the trivial things of being with Pete.

The tiny, stupid remarks that made Patrick laugh for what seemed like hours. Pete’s laugh. 

Everything about Pete, really.

He was so in love.


	18. Pete Shows Patrick Everyone (Important, that is)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thats a shitty chapter name now isn't it. (: this chapter is actually the longest fic I've ever written, it's longer than my longest one shot fic. I've been working on it off and on for the last few weeks so it'd be really good. I hope you like it! 
> 
> oh, and... spoiler alert (actually tw mostly) there is a sex scene in the beginning so if you don't wanna read that, it doesn't contain any plot details so just skip ahead. (:

Pete was still recovering, still getting used to doing shit and waking up and having Patrick right next to him, but he was good. So good.

He woke up kind of late one morning, and expecting that Patrick was already up, was surprised when he rolled over and saw his boyfriend sleeping so peacefully next to him. Pete grinned and scooted in, placing one hand on Patrick’s chest as he leaned over to kiss his boyfriend awake. He just pressed a chaste kiss against Patrick’s own lips, soft and pink. He smiled and waited for Patrick to wake up.

Patrick didn’t.

Pete sighed and kissed him again, pressing a kiss to his cheek as well.

No response.

Pete trailed a hand slowly down Patrick’s leg to the inside of his thigh, hand not on his crotch yet but ever-so-close. He kissed Patrick and squeezed his thigh, grinning as he pulled away and finally saw Patrick wake up.

“What are you-“

Pete grabbed his thigh again, stroking his thumb up and down.

“Oh.” Patrick grinned and reached up to kiss Pete, catching Pete’s bottom lip between his own.

“Are you awake enough yet, Trick?” Pete smiled and slid his hand to grab Patrick’s dick, which was, to Pete’s surprise, already hard a bit.

“If I wasn’t already, I sure am now.” Patrick laughed and kissed Pete again, grinning.

Pete grew a devilish smile and threw back the covers of the bed, slinging one leg over Patrick to straddle him. He started pressing kisses all the way down Patrick’s chest, hands running up and down his sides. He bit Patrick’s neck gently and just grinned as Patrick arched his back, hands coming to rest on Pete’s hips.

Pete scooted down, trailing his fingers down Patrick’s body until his fingertips were just barely touching the waistline of Patrick’s boxers, just teasing by tugging at them a teensy bit.

“Pete. Will you hurry up and take my fuckin’ boxers off already?”

“Gosh, Patrick, you’re antsy. Maybe I won’t blow you after all.” Pete started to move away from Patrick, but a hard grip on his wrist stopped him.

“Please don’t go.” Patrick’s voice was whiny and desperate, the way he got when he was desperately turned on and wanted Pete.

“If you say please.” Pete grinned and pulled Patrick’s boxers off, flinging them behind the two boys. He pressed kisses to the insides of Patrick’s thighs and started a hickey on his hip bone, one that would definitely be seen if Patrick’s shirt rode up. He wanted everyone to know Patrick was _his_. Patrick’s breaths started hitching and catching in his throat, gasping little moans escaping as Pete kept going.

Pete finally decided that it was time he quit fucking around and actually blow Patrick… or he could fuck around for just another minute. He kissed the base of Patrick’s dick, then, keeping eye contact with him, kissed the head of his dick and just listened as Patrick let out a sinful moan, one of desperation and want. 

“Please, Pete.” His voice was barely more than a whisper, almost inaudible.

“Alright, Trick.”

He slowly took Patrick’s dick into his mouth, bobbing his head slightly and swirling his tongue around the head, listening to every sound that came out of Patrick’s mouth, every curse word, every time he said Pete’s name, every gasp, moan, and breath. It wasn’t long before Patrick was gasping loudly and Pete was trying to swallow around Patrick’s dick.

Pete wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and sat up to grin at Patrick.

“Good morning.”

\---------

“Would you please just tell me where we’re going?” Patrick called, peeking his head out of the bathroom towards their bedroom, trying to see Pete.

“No! It’s a surprise!”

Pete heard Patrick laugh, and grinned as he bent over to slip on one shoe. As he was tying it, Patrick walked in, fedora on, and began searching his drawers for a tie. As Pete put the other shoe on, he glanced up to see Patrick watching him in the mirror with a smile. Pete ducked his head to finish tying his shoe, grinning.

After he was done and both shoes were secured on his feet, he slid up behind Patrick and wrapped his arms around Patrick’s middle, setting his head on Patrick’s back.

“Do we have to go?” He sighed, pouting a little.

Patrick laughed, “Of course we do! This was your idea.” Patrick turned around in Pete’s grip, smiling as he reached up to kiss Pete’s forehead. “Come on, finish getting ready.”

Pete released his grip on Patrick, slumping his posture a little, jutting his lower lip in a pout.

“Fine.”

Patrick grinned and leaned forward, catching Pete’s lip in a kiss before strutting out of the bedroom to the kitchen.

Pete sighed and snagged his own tie from the dresser, tossing it around his neck as he made his way to the bathroom, stopping in front of the mirror to comb out his hair. He considered his appearance: hair a little unruly but less than it had been a moment before. Good enough.

He held back his tie as he brushed his teeth and then tied it as he made his way to the kitchen after Patrick. Pete found his boyfriend standing by the counter, staring deeply into his phone.

“Trick?”

Patrick looked up, surprised. “Hm?”

“Something wrong?” Pete frowned, picking up his phone, wallet, and keys from the table, dropping each in his pocket.

“Um, no.” Patrick smiled and dropped his phone in his own pocket, but the plain answer wasn’t good enough for Pete.

“Seriously, babe. I know you. What’s wrong?” Pete walked to Patrick, gently grabbing both of Patrick’s arms in an endearing way. “You can tell me anything.” He kissed Patrick’s forehead.

“Pete, seriously, I’m fine.”

Pete could just _tell_ something was wrong. There was just that look of upset in Patrick’s eyes, the smile that didn’t quite meet his eyes, the way that same smile didn’t last quite long enough to be real. But if Patrick said he was fine, he didn’t want to pressure him. So he didn’t.

“Okay.” He smiled and stole a quick kiss on Patrick’s cheek one last time before holding out his hand for Patrick’s taking.

Patrick took Pete’s hand with a smile, the smile almost reaching his eyes but not quite. That was the part that hurt Pete’s heart the most.

Pete led them outside to his car, Patrick pausing to lock their front door behind them, and then they were on their way to the party. Patrick started humming at first to a song on the radio, some Bowie song (because that’s just who Patrick is) and Pete just grinned to himself because he didn’t want Patrick to see and get embarrassed and stop. He pretended to focus in on the road, but in reality he paid just enough attention to the road to not crash and instead placed most of his attention on Patrick. The man in the passenger seat started singing quietly, then slowly got louder, probably without even noticing it. Pete grinned brightly as the song ended and Patrick was grinning, too. It was one that definitely reached his eyes. Pete was good with that.

He slowly parked the car and took a deep breath, looking over at Patrick, feeling 102% in love. He leaned across the console, careful not to put his weight against the gearshift, and gently turned Patrick’s face to kiss him. It was mostly a chaste kiss, Patrick not opening his mouth as he usually did. Pete smiled as he pulled away and tried to bury his hurt as he pulled the key from the ignition and pushed the door open. Pete wore a frown as he closed the door and locked the car, but he forced himself to smile just a bit more as he took Patrick’s hand to walk into the house- Frank and Gerard’s house. It was one Patrick wouldn’t recognize, which was exactly what he needed.

As he walked in the door, Patrick’s hand firmly in his, he got giddy as everyone stopped to look at the couple entering.

“Everyone, this is Patrick. Patrick, this is everyone.”

\-------------

By “everyone” Pete had meant everyone… _important_. There were a few that wouldn’t have made the important list, but they were still welcome nonetheless. Among the party goers were Pete’s parents, Gabe, Mikey, Joe (as Pete had so dearly learned to love him), Andy, Frank and Gerard (as to be expected, it was their house after all) and a few others. Patrick was happy to see Joe, less happy to meet Mikey, but he was pleasant towards Mikey so Pete wasn’t mad.

“Dude, okay, so you know how like, the day you met Pete or whatever, my tattoo was burning?” As Joe spoke excitedly, his head moved and his hair bounced around, curls wild.

Patrick gave a light, happy, air laugh. “Yes, Joe. What about it? It was a chick at the record store, right?”

Joe shook his head violently, his curls whipping around his face and Pete couldn’t help but laugh. The sound was cut off short as Joe gave him a dirty look. “Dude! No! I thought it was but it so wasn’t!”

“Then who was it?” Pete looked at Patrick, who was wearing an equally confused expression to match his own.

“Who is the dude over there?” Joe turned and pointed at a guy in the far corner. Pete couldn’t see who he was, due to “dramatic” party lighting (he could thank Gerard for the “ambiance.”) “He’s got red hair and a buncha tattoos and a, uh…. Fuck, what’s it called? A labret piercing, I think.”

Pete raised an eyebrow. He wasn’t exactly sure who it was, but…. He had some ideas. “Bro, what’s your initials? On your wrist?”

Joe didn’t even blink before responding with, “AJH.”

Pete giggled and leaned over to Patrick, barely holding back his laughter to whisper to Patrick. “It’s Andy. Andrew John Hurley.”

Patrick grinned at Pete and laughed, getting an almost giddy look as he could tell what Pete was about to do.

“Hey, Joe, come here.” Pete grabbed Joe’s wrist and started dragging him towards Andy, ignoring that Joe was pulling back hard.

“PETE WAIT NONONON—“

“Hey, Andy. I want you to meet someone.”

Andy looked up from his drink, eyes flickering to his wrist first before looking at Pete. “Yeah?”

“Andy, this is Joe Trohman. Joe, this is Andy Hurley.”

The two boys shook hands, eyes drawn to each other’s tattoos. Pete watched as both of them grew a blush, nervously avoiding eye contact. Perfect.

Pete left, returning to Patrick (who was downright almost peeing himself in laughter.) “Pete, that was evil. You could have let them meet on their own.”

“Yeah, but where’s the fun in that? Now they have a meet-cute. Which we, sadly, do not.” Pete wrapped his arm around Patrick, leaning his head against Patrick’s.

“Oh, come on, the awkward elevator situation wasn’t cute?”

Pete laughed loudly, causing the beer he’d just been drinking to spew out of his mouth. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, laughing still. “No, not really! I went home and cried for two hours, Patrick.”

The red head grew a troubled look. “Really? I never knew that.”

“Well it’s not like I told you every detail of every minute. I mean, it was kind of embarrassing.” Pete hid his embarrassed blush in his cup, draining it of the sweet contents.

“Petey… You could have told me, you know.”

“Not really.” Pete shrugged, trying to bury his long forgotten feelings of hurt and despair when he and Patrick weren’t together. “I mean, we weren’t together. And right after, you skipped town… so there really wasn’t much I could do.” Pete sighed, biting his lip. “I just… tried to avoid Mikey as much as possible, though I knew it hurt him, and… either wait till you got home or… until I got over you, or… something.” He shrugged again, swallowing hard around what felt like a rock in his throat.

“Pete, I… I didn’t know you ever felt that way.” Patrick looked down, not meeting Pete’s eyes. “Do you know why I left?”

Pete shook his head, mumbling out a ‘no’. After realizing Patrick probably hadn’t heard, he cleared his throat and said louder, “No. I mean, I didn’t really ask, and I… didn’t really want to know, either.”

Patrick gave him a sad look, eyes looking full of hurt. “You have to know, Pete, then, I was… hurt. But that doesn’t matter now, I love you. So much, okay?” He waited a beat to let Pete nod, then continued. “Basically, I… I was torn up, too. I didn’t leave the apartment like, ever, and Joe wanted me to feel better, so… he paid for me to go to the Bahamas. To feel better or something. The whole point of that was to ‘get over you’ or something, even though I didn’t want to. I kissed some guys but none of them meant anything. Okay?”

Pete smiled at Patrick, laughing just a little. “You think I care about some random guys you kissed before we were even together? I was dating Mikey, Trick. I’m not upset.” He grinned and kissed Patrick’s forehead.

“Okay. Good.” Patrick smiled and buried his face in Pete’s chest, hugging him tightly.

Pete wrapped his arms around Patrick, resting his head ontop of Patrick’s. They remained like that for a moment, before Pete pulled away to look at Patrick. “You look tired. Do you wanna go home?”

Patrick laughed just a little and smiled tiredly. “I’d love to. I had fun but I’m exhausted.” He rested his head on Pete’s chest again for a moment before pulling away to lead Pete away. “Before we go, I want to thank Frank and Gerard. This party was awesome.”

“Sounds good, Pattycakes.” Pete followed Patrick, not letting go of his hand for a second as the shorter man led him through the people to find the hosts.

As they walked through, Pete saw many things: Mikey and his girlfriend huddled together in a corner, giggling and kissing carefully; Gabe dancing in an (almost) empty room; and, finally, the most surprising: Joe on Andy’s lap, making out furiously.

“Um, Joe, hello, there are people here!” Pete laughed surprisedly, covering his eyes but pointing them out to Patrick.

“Oh, you guys are so nasty.”

Joe looked up at them and scrambled off of Andy’s lap, staying close but looking totally embarrassed, holding Andy’s hand tightly. “Sorry.”

Pete laughed his dolphin laugh, high pitched and happy. “I’m just fuckin’ with you, Trohman. Chill. No loud sex in the apartment, right?”

Joe grinned at the message he’d given to Pete and Patrick when they first got together. “Right.”

Pete rolled his eyes and continued on through the house to find Frank and Gerard, discovering the two in their bedroom, just sitting and talking. “Hey, guys.”

The older couple looked up at the younger couple and both smiled.

“I just wanted to tell you guys thank you.” Patrick squeezed Pete’s hand. “This party was… totally amazing. Thank you for hosting it and making it possible. It really cool of you.”

Gerard grinned. “Of course, man. After how much shit I gave Pete about the situation, I figured I could make it up a little by doing something nice.”

Patrick shot Pete a look of ‘what is he talking about’ and Pete just winked, to tell him ‘I’ll tell you later’. Patrick nodded and looked back at Frank and Gerard. It was moments like that that Pete truly loved, when they just had mental conversations and could tell what each other was thinking.

“Well, thank you. We’ll see you guys later, alright?” Pete grinned and headed towards the door, Patrick close behind him.

“Later, guys. Have a good night.”

\------------------

When Pete and Patrick got home, Pete… to say the least, had a lot of things on his mind. He’d been thinking about so much in the car ride over, about before they left and how Patrick acted at the party. He was, to say the least, worried. Patrick didn’t seem himself, didn’t seem entirely happy. He enjoyed the party, sure, and Pete could tell he truly appreciated it, but all night, he didn’t really seem happy… Especially when they were talking about the history of their relationship. Looking at it now, it was kind of… a huge fucking mess. Pete couldn’t even deny it.

But to say the least, yeah, he was worried about Patrick.

“Baby.”

“Hm?” Patrick looked over tiredly at Pete as he undid his tie, tossing his hat onto the dresser.

“Is there something going on? You just…” Pete paused, bending over to untie his shoes. He got a mad rush of déjà vu, remembering how that very morning they had been in the same positions, getting ready instead of getting… unready. How happy Patrick seemed then, versus now. “You seem upset. All night, you’ve seemed kind of unhappy and like… I know it’s weird, but all your smiles don’t look… genuine. I don’t know, I’m just worried about you.”

Patrick shrugged, hanging his jacket in the closet. “It’s nothing. I’m alright.”

Pete stood and walked to Patrick, making him stop in the motion of kicking off his shoes. “Listen. I’ll believe you if you say nothing is wrong, even if… even if I don’t believe you, I’ll drop it. But I don’t believe you and I like to believe you can tell me anything if you need to. So, please, if something is wrong, tell me, okay?”

“Okay.” Patrick nodded and smiled, leaning forward so Pete could kiss his forehead before both resumed their actions of undressing, dropping clothes in the hamper and shoes in a uneven pile in the corner before crawling into bed together, cuddling right up under the heavy blankets.

Pete started to fall asleep, Patrick’s head curled into his chest, when he felt something. Patrick was tapping his chest.

“Hm?”

“I lied.”

“Okay.”

“Something is wrong.”

Pete’s eyes widened and he sat up a little, squinting through the dark to see Patrick’s worried eyes.

“Listen, one… one of the guys I kissed in the Bahamas must have gotten my number or something, I don’t know, but… He keeps texting me and is trying to get me to go out with him even though I keep telling him to fuck off. I finally blocked his number, but I’m scared he’s going to come after me.”

Pete was just silent for a minute, letting the information sink into his half-asleep brain. “Listen, Trick, the dude can’t get you. I promise. I’ll protect you.”

Patrick nodded, sighing heavily into Pete’s chest. “You’re right. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.”

“It’s okay.”

A beat of silence.

“Can I sleep now?”

Patrick laughed quietly, a sound that seemed to echo through the silent apartment. “Yes.”

“Excellent.”


	19. Patrick Introduces Pete to his mother...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is a bad chapter (: it's just filler for the last  
> but also,,,, one chapter. you'll probably like it kids. get ready for one or maybe? 2 fics coming your way soon it'll be good  
> anyways have this  
> tw: there's some sex stuff at the bottom so if you read to where patrick gets to pete's room and stop then you'll be good and there's nothing important after it.

Patrick looked over his shoulder at Pete, who was planted firmly on the couch, showing no desire to help Patrick do the dishes. “You suck, you know that?”

Pete just grinned at Patrick, one of those devilish kind of assholey smiles that would have annoyed Patrick were they coming from anyone but Pete. “Yeah, I know.”

Patrick just rolled his eyes and pretended to continue washing the dishes, only to dunk his hands in the water and then flick water at Pete, laughing.

“Oh, no! No no no!” Pete cackled with laughter, jumping up and running around Patrick to the sink to grab the hose, violently turning the knob to... well, completely hose Patrick.

Patrick just spluttered and gasped for a second at the shock of the cold water, blinking rapidly. He then grinned, waiting until Pete had set down the sprayer to run in and full body hug Pete, making sure that Pete got covered in water, too.

“Oh, you dick!” Pete laughed and tried to wiggle away from Patrick but failed, the shorter man having a strong grip.

“Yes, but you love me!”

“I suppose.” Pete grinned as Patrick released him, looking down at his shirt which was now… drenched.

Patrick took survey of his own battle wounds and, finding his whole body wet, started walking to the bedroom to change, Pete on his heels.

“Hey, Pete.”

“Hm?” Pete turned from where he was at the dresser digging for a new shirt, eyebrows high.

“I think it’s about time you met my mom.”

Pete laughed, as if Patrick were joking. “No thanks. After how mad at me she must be... I’d like to live, thank you.” He pulled off his shirt and tossed it in the hamper but then froze as Patrick gave him a dirty look. “Are you serious? Ughhh, Trick, she hates me!”

“She doesn’t hate you, she just… is kind of… mad…”

“There it is! Bam. I really don’t want to meet her Trick.” Pete jutted his lip out in a pout, sighing as he sat on Patrick’s lap, each leg on either side of Patrick’s hips.

“Well, I want you to meet her. You’re important to me and so is she.” Patrick kissed Pete gently, almost as a sign of ‘meet my mother and you’ll get a reward’ and he could tell Pete knew exactly what kind of reward he meant.

“I suppose it wouldn’t be too awful… and if you _really_ insist I guess I could manage one dinner…”

“Alright! We’re leaving at 6.”

“What?!”

\------

“Mom!” Patrick grinned as he hugged her, kissing her cheek. She pulled back to look at him, really get a good look.

“You look good, Rick. Happy.” She kissed his cheek and Patrick couldn’t help but blush. But then Patricia turned to Pete and narrowed her eyes.

“So. I’m going to guess you’re the Pete that broke my baby’s heart.”

Patrick looked over at Pete and choked back a laugh at his terrified expression, the fear in his eyes and the way he took half a step back.

Patricia grinned. “Nice to meet you, Pete. You broke him but you fixed him so you’re alright in my book.” She extended her hand to Pete for a handshake.

Pete cautiously shook her hand before rushing back to Patrick’s side, sliding his hand into Patrick’s. “She’s scary, Trick.”

Patrick smacked him gently and shushed him, smiling at the apprehensive look his mother shot him as they walked through the house to the dining room. He kept Pete close to him as they walked, trying to provide Pete some sort of comfort in what must have been, for Pete, absolutely terrifying.

“So, Pete…” Patricia flashed a smile over her shoulder as she continued walking, leading the boys into the kitchen. “What exactly happened that lead to you breaking Rick’s heart?”

Patrick looked at Pete and squeezed his hand, letting out a little sigh before answering his mother for Pete. “Mom, we don’t really want to talk about that. We’re trying to just forget about it and leave it in the past where it belongs.”

“Rick, come on. Leaving things ‘forgotten’ about and not talking about them only makes things worse.” She shot a very disappointed look at Patrick, sighing and clicking her tongue in a disapproving manner.

“Mom. Seriously, we’ve already talked about it and for the sake of our relationship, we’re trying to forget about it so neither of us get upset again. I don’t think either of us could handle it.” Patrick gave Pete a strained smile, trying to remain calm, squeezing Pete’s hand yet again for comfort.

Pete squeezed back as a ‘thank you’ for taking Patricia’s question and the following fire. But then, to Patrick’s surprise, he spoke up. “Patrick, um… I know you don’t want to talk about it but your mom obviously wants to know so, I… I can give her a watered down version.”

Patrick’s face went white a little in fear of how Patricia would react to it but he just nodded.

“Basically, Mrs. Stump, I did something _really_ dumb and hurt Patrick. And then… when he left, I got upset and if it weren’t for my friend Mikey who called Patrick to tell him to come fix my ass, he’d still be living with you.” Pete looked to Patrick, raising an eyebrow as if to ask ‘was that okay?’ Patrick nodded and gave a tense smile, worried his mom would say something rude.

“Well, thank goodness for that fellow Mikey since he got you back together so my Ricky is happy.”

Patrick blushed as Patricia patted his cheeks and left the room, leaving Pete and Patrick alone.

“Alright, so, time to go home, right?”

Patrick just rolled his eyes and sighed. “No, unfortunately not. Sorry babe.” He leaned in and kissed Pete’s cheek, pulling back just a little bit to rest his forehead against Pete’s.

“She’s scary, Trick.”

Patrick just laughed at his boyfriend. “No, she’s really not. You haven’t seen her mad.”

“So I should definitely not make her mad?”

“Definitely.”

\--

Patrick squeezed Pete’s hand under the dining table, shooting his boyfriend a reassuring smile as Pete underwent question after question from Patricia.

“So, Pete, what do you do for a living?”

“I run a record label.” He shrugged, acting as if it were no big deal since that’s how he always thought of it. “It’s still pretty small, one of the biggest bands we’ve signed right now is a couple of kids fresh out of high school, but they’re good.”

“He’s totally lying, mom. His label is way bigger than he says it is.” Patrick shot a devious grin at Pete, knowing it’d annoy Pete but not really upset him.

“Shut up, Trick.” Pete smacked him but Patrick just laughed.

“No, but seriously! Have you heard of Panic! At the Disco? That’s Pete! Pete signed them. He’s so amazing, mom, seriously. Those kids would have never gone as far without Pete. He’s so smart.” Patrick leaned his chin on his hand, elbow on the table, looking at Pete all moon-eyed as if Pete was the most beautiful man he’d ever seen. (Which Pete totally was, but that’s besides the point, now isn’t it?)

“Trii _iii_ iick!” Pete put on a pouty face, but wasn’t really all that embarrassed or upset. “Would you shut your big mouth?”

“Mmmm, maybe… But there’s only one way I know how.” Patrick grinned slyly at Pete and leaned in for a kiss, for a moment totally forgetting his mother was at the very same table. The two men were rudely reminded of that fact as Patricia cleared her throat, probably since she was just a bit uncomfortable.

“Well, Rick, it’s nice to see you’re happy.” She smiled and stood, starting to clear the table.

Pete stood and took all the dishes from her, smiling. “No, no, Patricia, you sit, I’ll clean up.”

Patrick stood to help Pete, as well, only to have the dishes taken from his hands as well. “No, Trick. I can do this on my own, you two sit and chat.” He smiled and kissed Patrick chastely, loading his arms with dishes to take to the kitchen.

Patrick just kind of shrugged and sat down in a chair closer to his mother. “So, mom… What do you think of Pete?”

“Well, I suppose if he makes you happy then I should tolerate him…” Patricia sighed and looked at the table, as if disappointed in her son.

“Mom, seriously. I really love Pete.”

“I know, darling. I was kidding. Pete’s great. He may have done dumb things but I can see he owns up to them and he truly loves you and just wants you to be happy. I may have just met him but I can already tell he’s a good person.”

Patrick let out a sigh of relief and it felt like for the first time in days he could truly breathe since he’d been so worried all night about what Patricia was going to think of Pete.

“Thank you, mom. I really do love him.”

“I know you do, Rick.” She smiled and patted his cheek before leaving, disappearing off into the house without much of a word to Patrick.

Pete returned a moment later, surprised that Patricia was gone, but he sat in her chair next to Patrick and smiled. “What’d she think of me?”

“Well…” Patrick bit his lip and frowned. “I think she just left to hire a hit man. She really hates you, dude. You should probably just go hide in the basement for a while, there’s plenty of canned peaches down there to last you a couple years. Once she bites the dust I’ll come save you.”

Pete’s eyes narrowed but his face went a little pale. “Does she hate me that much?”

Patrick couldn’t keep a straight face anymore and just started laughing at Pete’s worried expression. “No, dude! She loves you.”

Pete let out a huge breath, leaning back into the chair as he caught his breath. “Fuck you, Trick. You’re mean to me.”

“I can be nicer if you say please.”

“Pretty please with cherries on top?”

Patrick opened his mouth to return something inappropriate but Patricia entered, declaring, “There shall be none of that cherry talk in this house, Patrick,” in a loud voice, probably knowing exactly where Patrick was about to go with that.

“Moooom. I’m not 15 anymore, I’m a grown man.”

“You sure are, dear. But when you’re under my roof, you’re under my rules. If Pete wants to stay the night, he’ll have to stay in the guest room.”

Patrick gave his mother a deadpan look. “Mom, you can’t be serious. Pete and I—“ Patrick stopped himself, obviously not wanting to tell his mom about his sex life because that’s weird. “We’re both adults, mom. Seriously.”

“I am serious, Rick.” Patricia smiled brightly at the two men. “Well, let’s get you set up, Pete.”

Patrick rolled his eyes and stood to walk to his own room as Pete shot him a pleading look of desperation, of “help me” as Patricia dragged him away, hand locked firmly around Pete’s wrist.  
Patrick smiled and mouthed ‘I’ll save you later’ to Pete as he turned the corner, disappearing from Patrick’s view.

The red headed man grabbed his phone from the table and went to his own bedroom, falling on the twin-sized bed in frustration. The last time he’d slept in this bed, he and Pete were separated… He definitely did not want to spend another night alone. He knew now that Pete loved him and so he wouldn’t miss him quite as much, but then again, since he knew Pete loved him it almost made him miss Pete even more. Patrick rolled over on his bed, burying his face into the pillows as he let out a groan of frustration. As much as he loved his mother, she could be kind of a pain in the ass sometimes. Patrick closed his eyes for just a moment, but fell asleep, if only for a moment, before there was a hand on his back and a gentle voice.

“Trick.”

“Mmm.”

“Wake up.”

“Don’t want to.”

“Trick!”

“You have to make me wake up if you really want me awake.”

Pete’s voice became very quiet and hushed and hot on his ear, whispering. “Your mother is in the doorway so as much as I’d love to, I can’t.”

Patrick sighed but opened his eyes and sat up. “What, mom.”

“Oh, I’m just here as a supervisor to make sure nothing happens.”

Patrick rolled his eyes, looking at Pete. “What do you need, babe?”

“Well, since this is kind of an impromptu stay, I don’t really have any clothes. Do you think you have any pajamas I could borrow?” Pete looked kind of blushed and embarrassed, which was totally fucking adorable.

“Yeah, sure.” Patrick stood and walked to his dresser as a phone rang somewhere off in the house and Patricia just gave them a look before leaving to answer it.

Patrick glanced over his shoulder at Pete, sending a mental message of ‘get the fuck over here so I can kiss you’. Pete jumped off the bed and ran to Patrick, smashing his mouth into Patrick’s in a desperate kiss, breathy and teeth clicking together but full of love (and who are we kidding here, lust was there too.) Patrick pulled away after a moment, slightly out of breath, grinning.

“Damn, Pete. If I knew I’d get kisses like that, we’d have stayed with my mom a while ago.”

“Shut up, Trick.”

Patrick grinned and just turned to his dresser, opening the drawer to find an appropriate pair of pajamas, but then another idea dawned on him and he turned to Pete with a smile. “You know, you _are_ taller than me so I don’t really think my clothes will fit you… Maybe you should just sleep in your skivvies.” Patrick slid a hand on Pete’s waist, slipping a finger just barely into the waistline of Pete’s boxers, tugging at them with a grin.

“Trick!” Pete blushed and grabbed Patrick’s hand. “I’ve never seen you like this before.”

“It’s probably pent up teenage rebellion… my mom doesn’t want us to so of course, we have to.”

“Patrick, I love you.” Pete laughed and kissed Patrick briefly before grabbing the first pair of pants in the drawer- (Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, fuck yeah) before leaving again, dramatically throwing his hips from side to side like an over exaggerated model.

Patrick laughed and smacked Pete’s ass as he left before returning to the drawer and grabbing his own pajama pants to wear to bed (his were also TMNT.) He closed the bedroom door gently to change out of his tight jeans and dress shirt and into the pants and a loose blue t-shirt. Pajamas were always a favorite of Patrick’s. He just couldn’t get behind the idea to be dressed up all the time.

He crawled into bed, phone in hand. Patrick opened his messages to Pete to tap out, ‘I’ll be in your room at 11:30... Mom should be so far gone asleep she might as well be dead.’ Patrick grinned as he sent it, watching the status go from ‘Sending…’ to ‘Sent’ and he watched as the notification above the message change from ‘Delivered’ to ‘Read’ and as a new bubble popped up on Pete’s side, giving only a … as he typed but then changing into a message of his own. ‘I’ll be ready’ and then a billion winky faces and kissy faces and blushing faces. Pete was a fan of emojis.

Patrick counted down the minutes, watching the clock proceed from 10:45. He jumped out of bed and started pacing at about 11:14. Just kidding, it was exactly 11:14. He barely pulled his eyes off the clock for a moment, missing Pete so much already it almost hurt. (It kind of did, but that was a different kind of missing Pete if you get what I mean.)

Patrick sighed and stopped at the window, moving aside the curtain to look out the window, covered in tiny droplets of water from the rain. How dramatic. His eyes fell on a mark in the wall, squinting through the dark to see what it was. He leaned in closer to read it, eyes focusing in. It was a heart, that read ‘Patrick+PLKWIII’. Patrick blinked for a second before rereading it, not having remembered carving it into the wall. He smiled and brushed his thumb over it before noticing another one. Man, kid Patrick must have really enjoyed carving. This one read, ‘fuck love. It doesn’t exist’ in really broken, sharp letters.

Well. It went from happy to sad in approximately 2 seconds. Patrick looked at it for a moment before moving to his desk to grab his old pocket knife, moving back to the window to carve something in below the two marks. Slowly, he wrote out ‘love is always real. Never give up’ underneath both, signing it ‘patrick and pete’, which below those he wrote ‘pms’ and ‘plkwiii’ to give reference to the heart. He stood back at his work, realizing that his mom probably wouldn’t like it, but not giving any shits.

He glanced at the clock and realized that he’d taken 20 minutes. 11:34. Pete was waiting.

Patrick grinned and moved to the door, slowly opening it and starting to creep down the hallway, avoiding creaky floorboards and anything that would make a noise. He knew his mom was a sound sleeper, but just in case she was staying up to make sure they didn’t do what they were about to do, he figured it’d be a good measure to stay quiet.

Patrick carefully moved past the staircase and closer to the guest room (luckily, away from his mother’s room.) He held his breath as he moved with centimeter sized steps around the creakiest part of the floorboards, a rough patch of 5 splintery ones by the bathroom. Safely around them, Patrick let out a tiny sigh and continued on, reaching out to silently turn the knob and creak the door open.

“Petey.” Patrick looked through the dark, knowing the exact layout of the room since he’d often played in the room as a kid though it was technically ‘off limits.’

“Trick?” Pete sat up in bed, hair sticking up in every direction in a disheveled manner like he’d… been sleeping.

Patrick laughed quietly as he closed the door and flew across the room, throwing himself onto the bed. “I told you I’d see you later, didn’t I?”

“Well, I mean you did but I didn’t think you meant _this._ Not complaining, though.” Pete grinned and leaned forward, one hand on Patrick’s face as he kissed his boyfriend gently.

“Aww, come on, you can do better than that. What happened to that kiss earlier?”

“Oh, I can do that.” Pete grinned his shit eating grin, the mischievous grin Patrick had grown to love. Pete put his hands on either side of Patrick’s face, kissing him harder, tongue moving against Patrick’s mouth.

Patrick grinned as he pulled away. “See, I knew you had it in you.” He grinned and kissed Pete again. “You know, I’ve been thinking… since you did work so hard today being good for my mom, I think you should get a little reward… and just maybe I’ll be a little… not good.” Patrick trailed his hands down Pete’s thighs in a taunting way.

“I think that is a thing that should happen.” Pete’s breath caught in his throat, giving out gaspy little breaths as Patrick’s hands trailed down to the insides of his thighs.

“Petey… you don’t really need these pants, do you?” Patrick grinned and hooked his fingers in the waistband, starting to pull them down.

“Wait. Trick.” Pete gave a nervous little laugh. “I kind of went commando. You know, I thought it’d be sexy.”

“No, you’re just rubbing your junk all over my pajama pants.” Patrick winced, but laughed.

Pete laughed too, his dolphin laugh, but then they both realized how loud they were being and clapped a hand over their mouths at almost the same time, except that made them laugh even harder.

“Jesus, Pete, you’re not going to be that loud, are you? We don’t want to wake anyone up.” Patrick grinned as he continued pulling Pete’s pants off, trailing his thumbs over the Bartskull.

“Well, that depends on you. If you’re good, I’ll try my very best to stay quiet.”

“Challenge accepted.”

Patrick pulled Pete’s pants all the way off and tossed them behind, discarding them on the floor. He trailed a finger down the Bartskull before pressing a kiss to the bottom of it, right at the base of Pete’s dick. He pressed kisses and sucked a bit of a hickey into the inside of Pete’s thigh, biting just a tiny bit to make it purple, his fingers trailing along Pete’s dick just barely, enough to turn him on but not give him any relief.

“Patrick, baby, you’re killing me.”

“I know. That’s how I like it.” Patrick grinned and licked a stripe up Pete’s thigh, getting close enough to Pete’s dick that Pete could feel his breath but nowhere near close enough for what Pete wanted.

Patrick moved his head over, just barely dragging his tongue down the length of Pete’s dick, grinning up at his boyfriend while he did so. Patrick carefully took it in his mouth, closing his lips around it and pulling off with a satisfying pop as he drug his tongue across the head. He grinned and went down again, actually starting to bob his head, fingers moving across Pete’s thighs.

“Oh, Trick, fuck, I love you.” Pete tipped his head back, letting out a strained moan like he was trying his best to stay quiet but failing miserably.

Patrick drug his tongue down the bottom of Pete’s dick, swirling his tongue across the head. He just kept up a constant motion of moving his tongue across Pete’s dick, bobbing his head, until Pete was letting out a choked, “Trick, I’m gonna-“ and Patrick was slightly grossed out. He stood   
after and rinsed his mouth out in the connected bathroom (the guest room was really fancy) before crawling back into bed.

“Wait, Trick, I need my pants.”

Patrick rolled his eyes. “Not without underwear, you don’t.”

“Goodnight, Trick.”

“Goodnight, Pete.”


	20. Pete Proposes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well friends. this is the end. I may or may not do an epilogue if I feel like it, and I may do a sequel that's not entirely related to this one but in the same universe. This one will probably end up being part one in a series of little side fics, sequels and prequels of other characters' relationships to add more depth to the universe because I have nothing better to do. Also, I really like the set up of this soulmate au. It's good. Anyways.
> 
> I'm glad I've finished it, it's been fun, and hope you guys have enjoyed reading this more than I've enjoyed writing it and thank you all for the kudos and comments because those make my day.

Pete looked down through the glass of the countertop, biting the inside of his lip in indecision. He gave a tiny sigh and turned his head a bit to avoid glare on the glass, staring down at all the trays of rings. He crouched in front of the counter, eyes focused in on one particular ring, one that was silver with a tiny black band running through the middle. 

“Can I help you, sir?” A woman behind the counter leaned over, smiling down at Pete.

“Um… yeah.” Pete smiled and stood, resting his hands on the countertop. He lowered his voice and leaned in as if it were a secret, almost whispering, “I’m looking for an engagement ring.” He grinned broadly and started drumming his fingers on the countertop.

“Oh! Congratulations. I’ll get a tray of rings out for you to look.” The woman smiled and disappeared from view, crouching down to unlock the cabinet. She reappeared, tray in hand. She set it down on the counter and asked, “Do you have anything in mind?”

Pete looked down at the tray. They were all… well, engagement rings. But for women. He smiled nervously and sheepishly before saying, “I, uh- I have a boyfriend.”

The woman’s eyes got wide and her mouth opened like a tiny ‘o’. “I am so sorry, sir.”

Pete grinned and waved his hand. “It’s alright.”

She smiled and returned the tray, retrieving a new one, which just so happened to be the tray Pete was looking at a moment ago. Handy.

Pete carefully pulled the ring he was looking at out of its tiny slot and held it up, looking at the metal and inspecting it as if it were a diamond. In Pete’s mind, it had to be. He had to make sure Patrick would love it and that it would be perfect. Pete imagined it on Patrick’s hand, and the face he’d make when Pete opened up that tiny little box… and then he realized it was so not perfect. He put it back carefully, chewing his lip as he inspected more rings. 

There was a black one with a silver stripe, a reverse of the one he’d just been looking at. There were gold ones, black ones, batman ones, ones with diamonds in them… But none of them looked any good. Pete eventually began wandering down the counter again in a crouched position, looking at the rings and just trying to find one that would be perfect.

Then there it was. Plain silver. It wasn’t special, but he knew that’s what Patrick would want. Just a simple silver band. He called the girl over and had her pull out that tray, so he could really make sure that was the ring he wanted. Pete carefully pulled the ring out of it’s tiny slot and just looked at it, making sure it would be exactly what Patrick wanted.

“I’ll take this one.” Pete grinned at the lady, handing it to her. “God, it’s perfect.”

“Well, I’m glad you found one. Do you need another size or is this one good?”

“Oh, I need another size. He’s a….” Pete got lost in a memory as he tried to remember what size ring Patrick was.

_“Lunchbox!” Pete ran over to Patrick, wrapping his arms around his boyfriend from behind, setting his chin on Patrick’s shoulder._

__“What, Petey?”_ _

___“Whatcha doin’?”_ _ _

____Patrick just laughed at Pete. “I’m looking at these rings. I don’t think I could pull one off, though.”_ _ _ _

_____“Oh, sure you could, baby. You just gotta find a good one.”_ _ _ _ _

______“If you say so.”_ _ _ _ _ _

_______“I’ll help you look.” Pete unhooked his arms from around Patrick and darted to the counter, eyes searching desperately for one that he thought Patrick would like. He found one that had flowers and was just generally really fruity and-- you know, probably for women-- but he turned to Patrick. “What size are you?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“Eleven.” Patrick looked over at Pete, raising an eyebrow. “Why?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________“I found the perfect one. Close your eyes.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“Why?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

___________“It’s a secret! Just close them. Close them!”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________“Okay, okay!” Patrick laughed at Pete, but did as he was told and closed his eyes._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_____________Pete picked up the ring (in a size eleven) and ran over to Patrick, sliding it onto Patrick’s finger. “Okay, open up.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________Patrick opened his eyes and looked down at his finger and just started laughing, laughing so hard he bent over and had to put a hand on the counter to stabilize himself. “Wow, Petey. That’s… that’s real beautiful.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_______________“No, you are.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________“Shut up.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________Pete did. By kissing Patrick, of course._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________Pete shook his head, blinking a few times. “Sorry, um… He’s a size eleven.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________“I’ll be right back.” The lady smiled at Pete and disappeared with the tray, off to fetch a size eleven._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________Pete just drummed his fingers against the glass as he waited for her to get back, getting more excited by the moment. She returned a moment later, a frown on her face._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________“I’m sorry, sir, we actually have no more size elevens in stock. I can put in a special order for one of the other stores to either mail it here or we can mail it directly to your home.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________Pete thought about it a second. He was lazy, he probably would procrastinate coming to pick it up… Or he wouldn’t, since it was Patrick’s engagement ring… But if it were mailed home, Patrick might open it and find out…_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________“I’d like it mailed here, please. I don’t want to run the risk of my boyfriend seeing it and opening it and totally ruining the surprise.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________“Of course not. We’ll call you when it arrives so all I need is your phone number and then you can check out.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________After Pete gave the girl his digits (something he never thought he’d do again), he waited patiently as she readied the computer._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________“Alrighty! Well, today is your lucky day, because that ring was on sale. Instead of it being $200, it’s only $150. So if you could just swipe your card down there--”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________Pete followed every instruction the girl said, just excited to finally be doing it right and marrying the guy he loves. After he finished and the order was under way, Pete went out to his car almost bouncing in glee. After he sat down and honked the horn a few times just because he was really really excited, he pulled out his phone to call Joe._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________“Trohman!”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________“What.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________“Dude, you could try to sound a little more excited.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________“You interrupted what I was doing.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________“What were you doing?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________“Hi, Pete!” That was Andy’s voice._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________“Oh, jesus, Joe, don’t fucking answer the call during sex-”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________Joe laughed loudly. “No, dude, we’re not fucking. We’re just chillin’. Anyways, what’s up?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________“Dude! I just bought the ring.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________“What ring?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________“A ring to propose to Patrick!”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________“Oh. Oh! Dude, that’s awesome! When are you gonna do it?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________“Well, I mean, they had to have it shipped over from another store so it won’t get in for a week or so so I’ll have time to plan everything out but it’s gonna be romantic and cliche-y as fuck. Do you think Patrick’ll like it? Being cliche-y?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________“Dude, Patrick’ll love it. Trust me, if there’s one thing I know, it’s that Patrick claims to hate cliches but fucking loves them.” Joe giggled and there was a muffled thump and the sound of Andy laughing._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________“Okay, well, I’ll leave you two to your gay stuff. Later!”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________“Bye, Pete!” Joe and Andy’s voices were in uniform as they hung up the phone, leaving Pete just utterly disturbed. He really hoped they weren’t in the middle of sex._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________That’s weird._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________\---------------_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________Over the next week, Pete would often lock himself in the bathroom and turn on the shower saying he was “showering”, but no, he was not 15, that’s not what he was doing. He had Patrick for that. No, he was practicing the proposal. He had to swiftly get down on one knee and pull the box from his pocket. Right now he was just practicing with a little box of thumbtacks he’d found on Patrick’s desk and he was hoping Patrick wouldn’t notice. So far the jewelry store hadn’t called him, and honestly, Pete was getting a little nervous. He wasn’t doing well with the proposal itself, figuring out what to say and how to not lose his balance because he’s a klutz, let’s get real, and then it’s been a week and no ring yet? Panic._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________Pete sat in the bathroom, sighing as he pulled his phone out to call Joe again._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________“What.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________“Listen. I’m fuckin’ freakin’.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________“Why?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________“Well, because I don’t know what the fuck to say for this damn proposal and if I mess it up Patrick won’t say yes and the store hasn’t called to say they have the ring and I-”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________“Pete. Chill.” Joe sighed. “Okay, if you fuck up, Patrick’s not going to say no. He’s going to laugh at you a little but he’ll still love you and he’ll say yes. After all you’ve been through, you think he’s gonna say no because you fucked up the proposal? If you think that you’re dumb, Wentz.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________“True.” Pete sighed, rubbing his eyes. “You’re right. Why do you have so much infinite wisdom, Joe?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________“I don’t know, man.” Joe laughed, loud._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________“Well. I’m gonna practice this thing again, but thanks for helping.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________“No problem, man. And if you’re worried about the ring, call the store and ask.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________“Good plan. I’ll talk to you later.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________“Later, Wentz.” Buzz, click._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________Pete sighed and stood up by the shower again. He imagined the scene: candles, dramatic lighting, Patrick in front of him._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________“Listen, Patrick…” Pete got down on one knee, pulling the box out of his pocket in a swift motion (for the first time ever.) “I’ve loved you kind of my entire life. There was never a doubt in my mind that you weren’t the one for me, okay, there was for a little bit but I fixed that-” Pete sighed. That wouldn’t work. He reset his position. Imagined the candles, dramatic lighting, Patrick in front of him._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________“Listen, Patrick.” On one knee, box. Smooth, again. Pete just let out a sigh of relief that he’d finally gotten down. “I’ve loved you… kind of my entire life. I know we’ve gone through some struggles, but I know we’re meant to be together because despite all the dumb shit I’ve done, you still love me and I should have never taken love for granted. I love you with all my heart and want to be with you forever. Will you-” And then Pete lost his balance, because he was so nervous to get it right he was shifting back and forth._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________Pete sighed and sat back on his butt. That was about the 107th try. He decided right then and there he was going to just fucking _wing it._ It’d be more… heartfelt and “in the moment” or something. He didn’t fucking know, he was just sick of getting anxious because he couldn’t get it right. He turned the water off and flipped the lightswitch as he exited the bathroom, sighing and rubbing the back of his neck. And… there was Patrick._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________“You don’t look like you were showering.” Patrick raised an eyebrow, then frowned. “Pete, you know that I could-”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________“I wasn’t. I was working on a secret thing.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________“Oh.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________“Don’t worry, it’s not a bad thing.” Pete smiled and kissed Patrick’s cheek, trying to keep at least one hand on the reins of his anxiety as he moved around his boyfriend to get to the kitchen._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________“Oh, now I’m worried.” Patrick’s voice was obviously joking, but Pete couldn’t help but get a little nervous._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________“Patrick.” Pete rolled his eyes as he turned to face the shorter man. “Just trust me on this! You’ll like it.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________“Sure. Anyways, I’m going to the store to get some groceries. You coming?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________“As much as I’d love to, (not), I’ve got some work to finish up here for the label.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________“Okay. I’ll see you later.” Patrick kissed Pete’s cheek, grabbed his keys, and was out the door._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________Pete let out a huge breath as soon as the door had clicked shut, leaning back against the counter. Fuck. Patrick was onto him. He rubbed his eyes, biting the inside of his cheek in a nervous habit. He just wanted to sit down and call Joe and/or Mikey or _fucking someone_ to figure this shit out, to calm his ass down, but he really did have label stuff to do._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________Pete moved his way into their bedroom, sitting down on their bed with his laptop to start working, but could only sit there for about twenty minutes before he started getting antsy again. What if Patrick knew? What if Patrick did think he was doing something bad?_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________Phone out. Mikey’s contact. Probably not the best person to call in Patrick’s eyes, but Pete knew he’d know what to do._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________“Hey. What’s up?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________“Okay, so… I know I totally wanted to keep this a secret, but I’m proposing to Patrick soon-”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________“Dude! Congrats!”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________“Not the point. Anyways. I’ve been hiding in the bathroom to practice, and I think Patrick’s onto me.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________Mikey was quiet for a minute. “What do you mean?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________“Well, when I came out of the bathroom, he was all ‘you don’t look like you were showering’ and I’m like ‘it’s a secret thing but it’s not bad I swear’ and he’s all ‘sure right’ and I-”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________“Pete. Slow down. He was fucking with you. You could always just ask Joe to lowkey see if Patrick knows anything.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________“You’re right… I’m just afraid I’m gonna fuck it up, you know? I shouldn’t be so scared about this, but it’s fucking _Patrick_ , and I’ve fucked up so many times already, so I don’t wanna mess it up again. I just want it to be perfect so we can live happily ever after.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________“Pete… No one ever lives happily ever after. That’s bullshit. Yeah, things may be good a lot, but there are gonna be hard times and you have to be ready to deal with that.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________“I know. Just… last time Patrick and I made up, he said he might not be able to take anything like that again. I’ve broken his heart too much already.” Pete ran his hands through his hair and stood, walking to the kitchen for a glass of water._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________“I get that, Pete. I understand. But if he really loves you, you guys will figure it out. I know sometimes it’s easier to just break up rather than fix the problem but after what you two have been through, you could probably handle anything.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________Pete sighed and nodded. Mikey was right. Why were all of his friends so smart? He needed dumber friends so he could be the smart one- Just kidding. “Thanks, Mikey.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________“Any time, bro. Later.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________“Later.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________\---------------_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________Ring ring. Pete picked up his phone and, not looking at the caller ID, clicked answer. “Hello?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________“Hello, is this Pete Wentz?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________“This is he.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________“Hi, this is the Gold Miner’s jewelry store, we’re just calling to let you know that your ring came in today so it’ll be available for pick up whenever.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________“Oh. Oh! Okay, thank you so much.” Pete clicked end on the call and just sat for a minute, phone in hand, before starting to stand up._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________“Who was that?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________“Uh, it was- the drycleaners. I’d taken something there for Mikey and I guess I gave them my number instead of his.” Pete smiled and moved past Patrick, biting his cheek again as he searched for his shoes. He felt dirty that he’d just lied through his teeth so blatantly to his boyfriend (soon to be fiance) but he couldn’t just tell Patrick that he was going to pick up the ring. Uh, hello, spoiler alert!_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________“Oh, okay.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________“Yeah, I’m gonna go pick it up and take it to his place since he’s really busy.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________Patrick frowned and folded his arms across his chest, leaning all his weight on one leg. “He’s a grown man, Pete. He can get his own dry cleaning.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________“Pattycakes. I’m just trying to be nice.” Pete smiled and walked over, giving Patrick a brief kiss. “That’s what friends are for, right?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________“I suppose. Be back before five, okay? I’m cooking dinner.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________“Okay.” Pete grinned as he walked out the door, almost bouncing in excitement to get the ring. He hated that he’d had to lie to Patrick, but it was necessary. Patrick would understand. Pete barely paid attention to anything as he drove over, the drive feeling like it was about two seconds long. Pete practically bounded in the door and almost jumped up and down while asking for his order._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________And then, there it was._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________A tiny, black, velvet-y jewelry box._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________Pete slowly opened it and just felt his entire face grin as he saw the little silver band. He couldn’t wait to see it on Patrick’s hand. It’d be like a fixed mark that Patrick was Pete’s. That they were together. Which is all Pete wanted._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________Pete thanked the girl and slid the box into his pocket, almost bouncing as he exited the store and got in his car, just honking the horn a few times in excitement that he actually had the ring now, and it was real. He pulled out his phone and just started typing, all the details of the scene he had in mind. Candle sticks gently illuminating Patrick’s face, slowly eating spaghetti (because that’s all Pete knew how to make). They’d share a plate, so they could have a lady and the tramp moment… Pete just wrote and wrote and wrote for fifteen minutes, down to what he was wearing and how he styled his hair because he needed it to be exactly _perfect.__ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________He finally drove home, thumbs drumming on the wheel in giddiness. He forced himself to calm down as he walked in the door to not alarm Patrick, erasing the shit eating grin from his face as he closed the door behind himself._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________“Hey, babe. Did you have fun?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________Pete laughed. “I picked something up from the dry cleaners. How is that fun?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________Patrick laughed back, kissing Pete’s cheek. “True. Now sit down, dinner’s ready.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________\--------------_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________Pete was freaking out. Nothing was going right. Patrick was late getting home from work, Pete had burnt the spaghetti noodles, they were out of any more, and he didn’t have time to go get more, and the meatballs were all either burnt or undercooked. His hair was floppy and wouldn’t do what he needed it to, and all the candles he’d bought kept going out or dripping wax all over the table._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________So much for perfect._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________Pete had taken the whole day off from work, saying he was sick, to clean the house and just make it perfect. He’d set up the table with a tablecloth and candle sticks and it was great. The food was cooking and it was going well, and then he got the first call from Patrick._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________Patrick had to stay late by half an hour to finish something. But that was all._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________Pete kept his cool. He blew out the candles and just tried to finish the food as he waited. Then he got the second call._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________He had to stay another half an hour._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________And so Pete kept waiting. And then the food burned because Pete was freaking out so much he wasn’t paying attention. He scraped it all into the trash but that smelled so he had to take it out but then it still smelled so Pete started desperately Febreezing the shit out of the kitchen. But then it was fucking hot, because the stove had been on so long, so now his shirt was sweated through and his hair was floppy and he looked so not marriage worthy. He couldn’t even make food without burning it._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________Pete decided once Patrick was on his way, he could just order pizza, but… that wasn’t very romantic, was it? He put his head in his hands, groaning loudly in frustration of how not perfect everything was going. He ran his hands through his hair and looked down at his clothes, sweat stained and at this point, far too wrinkled from his pacing and sitting down then standing up, his constant movement in general._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________He walked back to the bedroom, unbuttoning his shirt to dump it in the laundry hamper haphazardly. He pushed his dress shoes off to be able to take his dress pants off, dropping them also in the hamper. Down to his underwear and socks, he went to his closet, grabbing the first t-shirt and tugging that on before moving to the dresser for pants. Skinny jeans secured, Pete shuffled to the bathroom in an attempt to fix his hair._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________Pete bit his lip as he tried to put gel in it again, make it something more interesting than it currently was. No luck. He just combed it out and wore it like he usually did, which was okay to him. He stood back at looked at himself in the mirror. He had to say, he did like this better than the suit thing. Anyways._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________Pete heard the front door opening and closing and a loud sigh that could have only come from Patrick. And then Pete realized that the ring box was out on the table. Fuck. Pete made a mad dash down the hallway, finding a worn-out-looking Patrick with slumped shoulders and a yawn. “Babe! You’re home!” Pete wrapped Patrick in a hug, eyes focused across the room on the box._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________“Yeah, I’m sorry I’m so late. Why does it smell like burnt spaghetti?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________Pete laughed as he pulled back in the hug to kiss Patrick’s forehead. “I tried to make spaghetti and burned it, that’s why. I’m gonna order pizza, though, are you okay with that?” Pete started to dig his phone out of his pocket, ring forgotten for a moment as his mind switched to pizza and cheering Patrick up._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________“Yeah.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________Pete turned away down the hallway as he called in the order, biting his thumb as he decided between sizes of pizza. After he’d finished, he crammed his phone back in his pocket and went back out to Patrick, only to find his boyfriend at the table._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________Holding the box._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________And the box was open._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________Pete slowly walked over, biting his lip. He sat down across from Patrick nervously, just looking at Patrick and trying to gauge his reaction. “By the way, will you marry me?” Pete gave a self deprecating smile, nervous and scared and sheepish._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________Patrick opened his mouth slightly and closed it again, eyes focused in on the ring._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________“Listen, I-… I love you, Patrick. Ever since I became really old enough to understand what your initials on my wrist meant and what your voice meant-” Pete started blushing. “And what that _really_ meant for my fifteen year old self. I’ve loved you forever. I know I’ve fucked up, I’ve fucked up a lot, and I’m sorry. I’m trying to fix things and-” Pete started fumbling over his words, nervous of what Patrick would say._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________And then Patrick just kissed him. It was chaste, closed mouthed, and Patrick kept making sniffly noises and just kept kissing him again and again and again, whispering “yes” between every kiss._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________Pete took the box from Patrick’s hand (and also took Patrick’s left hand). He carefully pulled the ring out of the foam and slid it onto Patrick’s third finger, grinning as Patrick looked at the ring then looked up and kissed Pete again._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________Pete didn’t think he would get sick of that._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________They just kissed for a couple more minutes, then the pizza arrived, so they ate that, and kissed between every bite._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________And for once, Pete had a feeling that everything was going to work out just fine._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _


End file.
